


Dark Tale

by GoodGrief



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Fem Chara, Hollowing, Item descriptions, Knight Frisk, Nonbinary Frisk, OMGIMSOSORRY!, Rogue Chara, Sorcerer/Cleric Asriel, mention of other characters, sans the explorer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodGrief/pseuds/GoodGrief
Summary: The fire is fading. The abyss grows, and the Darksign spreads throughout the land, turning humans into hollows and monsters into flowers.Amidst the calamity, a trio of adventurers sets out to find a cure amidst the most accursed place of all. But can there be hope against such darkness? Can there be fire against fate? Or are they all doomed to a soulless, unending existence?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah... I've gone and made a thing...
> 
> It's something I've had on my mind for a while; I figured "Hey! Dark Souls and Undertale has surprisingly much in common! The both have souls as an important aspect of the story, they both have in-game explanations as to why the Player Character revives after death and they both have a somewhat tragic backstory(ies) And, well, this was the result.
> 
> For any hardcore Dark Souls fan, I deeply apologize for this apparent heresy. But if you're still here by the end, please, feel free to comment whatever you like :)

 

**Northcrest Road**

 

_A network of roads and traveling stations criss-crossing the lands of a once vast northern kingdom._

 

_Local legend states that it garnered its name from the crest of a dragon the roads form when observed from a certain elevated position._

 

_Yet, symbolism makes for a poor road warden, and nowadays the roads are home to brigands and beasts._

 

 

It had been a few hours before the, at least somewhat sunlit grassy valleys of Astora had given way to this hilly, bleak and gray-covered moorland. Even at the best of times, these roads had been dangerous, visited only by the feet or carriage wheels of fools or the desperate.

Frisk wondered what that made them, then.

Weighing the hefty coin purse in their hand, one would think the former, but in these times, the amount of offers they got were quite substantial. After all, Sellsword Frisk was a bit of a legend, a legend now on it's perhaps most dangerous task yet.

 

They eyed their two charges and benefactors sitting on the other end of the horse-drawn carriage ferrying them all trough the desolate landscape. Only one of them had given up their name - a young woman, Chara, she had informed, a brown-haired, scarlet-eyed and rosy-cheeked woman wearing a high-quality leather armor set reinforced with steel at vulnerable points and backed by a great, bright-green cape. On her right hip hung her weapon; something that could only be described as a kitchen knife. Frisk had noticed how the woman's hand constantly hovered close to the scabbard, as if constantly on edge, the cold stare she had fixed them with all this time gave credence to this, as if she was daring the sellsword to try something stupid, her eyes constantly darting to and fro from Frisk's eyes to the blunt sword resting at their side.

'Good' Frisk thought. Where they were going, they would need to be on guard like that, and she looked like she could handle herself in a fight.

Of more concern was her compatriot, a robe-clad figure with its hood down, looking more at home in a cloister or archive than this forsaken realm. The purple robe itself bore a strange symbol in the chest; a winged orb topping a trio of triangles. In its hand, it held a finely carved staff, that ever so slightly seemed so shimmer at the top. A mage of some kind.

But of course, the strangest thing, and perhaps the biggest cause of concern, was the hand itself, more like a paw, even. A white-furred paw with barely visible claws. A monster. An extremely rare sight outside of Ebott these days.

Unlike Chara, he had remained far more static, staring at the floor and looking as if the whole world was weighing on his shoulders.

 

'Not good' Frisk thought. Where they were going they would more than likely need to fight tooth and nail just to stay alive, and if a little bit of homesickness could do someone in so easily, they wouldn't last a minute.

 

Frisk put the purse away and shifted in their seat. It was uncomfortable sitting around in plate armor for extended periods of time, but out here in the wilderness, one had best be prepared, as death could lurk around every corner.

 

So far, the strange duo had paid sellsword Frisk to protect them and escort them to... that accursed city, but only Chara had ever talked, and their exact mission was still unclear. Considering the place they were headed, their task needed to be more known and transparent. The initial payment had been more than enough to silence any questions any good blade-for-hire might have had, but they were getting close now.

 

Frisk drew breath in as they leaned forward in their seat _“So”_ Frisk began _“What is it exactly you're looking for?”_

The robed monster tensed up even more but continued staring at the floor. Chara, on the other hand, fixed a steely gaze on the mercenary _“None of your business, sellsword._ _You are paid_ _to_ _guide and protect us, not to ask questions_ ” The young woman answered brusquely.

One might have figured they would respond as such. People of gentler virtues rarely had need of individuals with Frisk's skill-set. Nevertheless, it was a grating statement.

 

“ _If I am to provide the best service possible, I need to know what we will be walking into”_ They tried again, trying to sound as court as possible.

“ _No, all you need to know is that you're paid to fight and die to protect us, nothing more, nothing less”_ Chara replied in her still-hostile tone, her hand dropping tenuously close to her scabbard.

“ _You bought my service, not my life_ ” Frisk countered.

“ _And what's your life worth then, mercenary?”_ Chara asked back

 

Their lips sneered in annoyance. Just before they could respond, a strange, low-pitched, noise occurred in the carriage. It took a moment for them to realize it was the monster whispering to Chara.

 

The feisty rogue turned to face her companion, surprising them with how quickly she could change her voice from combative to reassuring and caring

“ _Asriel I told you, leave the talking to me”_ Chara spoke to the monster.

“ _But it's alright! Really, I trust them, don't you?”_ Answered a light, friendly tone.

“ _You can't buy trust, Asriel”_

“ _If you don't tell them, I will!”_ The one now identified as Asriel said as he banged his staff softly on the floor to get his point across.

“ _Uggh, fine”_ Chara conceded. She leaned forward in her seat and pulled back the sleeve on her right arm. To her left Asriel did the same.

The sight revealed to them wasn't an unfamiliar one, but surprising nonetheless. A direct sign of the times, something Frisk had seen too many good people cursed by.

They both had what looked like a circle burnt into their wrist, but what made these ones stand out was that the lines seemed to shimmer and fade, almost as if it was still burning.

 

The Darksign

 

Frisk leaned back in their seat. In a way, this revelation was as much a blessing as a curse. Branded people were, after all, almost impossible to kill for good, but it came at a much too steep price _“So, you're both undead?”_ Frisk asked quietly.

Chara and Asriel both nodded slowly and solemnly.

 

They sighed. Despite them having lied to them, they couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy _“I'm sorry to hear that... but what does that have to do with going to Arnvolt?”_ Frisk asked. They knew the ultimate fate of those branded by the Darksign was one far worse than death. To be denied their final rest and wander the earth a mindless hollow for all eternity, unable to die for good, drained of all hope, soul, and life.

And, as far as they knew, in order for The Darksign to appear on your body, you had to have died at least once.

 

Asriel's gloomy and depressed stance returned, and he once again turned to look at the floor.

“ _Where we're from, we're having an... outbreak, I guess you could call it”_ Chara quipped in, her voice slow and calculated _“Every day the royal guard has to escort another one turned “hollow” to the castle dungeons “for their own safety””_ Chara continued, sarcasm filling her last sentence.

Frisk raised an eyebrow. Tales of Darksign outbreak were becoming increasingly common these days, if there was a cure, surely it would have been found by now _“And you're hoping to find a solution... in the most dangerous and cursed place in the land?”_ Frisk asked almost childishly, surely they could see that this was a fool's errand?

 

“ _Yes, as a matter of fact, we do”_ Chara retorted, annoyed _“According to the Royal Sorcerer of Ebott, The Darksign draws upon the soul of the afflicted, and this place we're going to, Arnvolt, once committed great studies on the nature of the soul”_

“ _That may very well be, but it's an abomination-infested ruin these days and has been for hundreds of years!”_ Frisk replied _“No one who has entered has ever returned”_

Asriel suddenly spoke up _“Then we'll be the first”_ Frisk and Chara turned to look at him _“Everyone back home is counting on us. We'll save them, I know we can do it!”_

Frisk quickly butted in _“Look, I'm not taking you into the city itself - it's a death sentence”_

Chara scowled angrily _“Mercenary dog! Then what exactly did we pay you for!?”_

“ _I'll take you close, help you have a look around and then leave. We're **not** going to that place!"_

“ _No deal, either you help us into the city, or we'll turn this carriage right around and head back, and then you can forget all about the other half of your payment!”_

 

Frisk felt their anger rise, didn't these idiots understand they were just saving them from dying and going hollow even faster?

 

“ _Hey, I think we're here”_ Asriel said. The carriage slowed down beside an abandoned waystation. Asriel reached for the door knob, but Frisk's hand quickly shot out and grabbed his. The monster leapt back in his seat with a bleat. To his right Chara reached for her knife.

Frisk quickly held their other hand up.

“ _I mean no harm! But let me go first, there might be bandits about_ ”

 

Asriel seemed satisfied, almost apologetic with the answer. Chara, on the other hand, continued her angry scowl, daring Frisk to make a move.

 

Slowly, they opened the door and scanned the surrounding area. Nothing to see, but that didn't mean there weren't anything hiding. Frisk reached back and grabbed their sword and shield.

 

**Determined Blunt Sword**

 

A rather plain looking sword, but the discerning eye will notice signs of the superior craftsmanship that went into the making of this blade. The blade itself had been intentionally blunted to near non-lethality. 

 

This sword, while serving as an able weapon in combat is also, mysteriously, completely unable to break no matter how much pressure and force is applied.

 

Perhaps it is simply channeling the virtues of its owner?

 

 

**Heart Kite Shield**

 

A regular, if well-made kite shield emblazoned with a faded image of a beating heart.

 

The heart is a common motif in many royal crests and emblems, being a symbol of strength, courage, integrity, compassion and valor, and shields like these would usually be handed out to knights of the realm.

 

The weathered and battered look of this shield, however, would imply less-than-knightly dedication to maintenance.

 

 

 

 

Frisk stepped out of the carriage, sword and shield in hand and surveyed the area once more. Still no sign of any danger, but there were hints that the waystation had been recently occupied. A still-smouldering firepit here, a discarded flagon there, proof that the lost city of Arnvolt still attracted adventurers. But the city, rumored to devour the souls of all who entered, had yet to let anyone return.

 

From behind them, Frisk heard a yelp and a thump. They spun around, hand on hilt, and found Asriel, lying on the ground. He had tripped while exiting the carriage and had fallen muzzle-first to the ground. His staff rolled over to Frisk's feet.

Frisk sighed, this was going to be a problem. Already the robed monster was proving a liability. They crouched down to pick up the staff.

 

**Royal Ebottian Staff**

 

A finely crafted sorcery staff. The heraldic images and runes branded onto it would imply that staves such as these would only be used by royalty.

 

There is no religious pantheon in the kingdom of Ebott. As a consequence, their schools of magic have had to develop a unique brand of healing miracles powered by intelligence rather than faith.

 

The magical academy of Hotland was established for this specific purpose.

 

 

Frisk walked over to the carriage, where Chara was helping Asriel up. They reached out with the staff.

“ _I think you dropped something... your highness”_ Frisk said sarcastically.

Asriel's eyes went wide _“Ho- how did you know!?”_ he asked, shocked and reached out for his staff with a trembling hand.

“ _Nevermind that, but I would have preferred to know I was escorting a... prince, is it?”_

Asriel looked down, an expression of shame on his face _“Ye_ _s_ _... I'm sorry, but-_ ”

Chara suddenly pulled Asriel to the side and got in between them. _“Listen here, sellsword, we paid good money for your service. Whether he's a prince or not is not important!”_

Frisk was getting really tired of these two and their secrets. _“Of course it's important! Do you know how bad for business it would_ _be_ _if word got out that a prince died_ _on my watch!?”_

Chara's eyes grew cold _“You'd really value your reputation over him?”_ she gestured to Asriel, standing by her side and looking at Frisk with sad eyes.

“ _Well, I-”_ Frisk tried.

“ _Then you better make sure you do your damn job!”_ She finished with a push to Frisk's shoulder, as she moved past them to a ridge overlooking the moorlands below. Asriel likewise made to follow her.

 

Frisk cursed inwardly. This was quickly becoming more trouble than it was worth, but they had taken the job and were thus professionally bound to see it trough.

 

The coach-driver that had carried them thus far coughed nervously, eyes fearfully scanning the horizon for any beasties. An emaciated, flea-ridden individual, he had nonetheless possessed the absolutely required combination of desperation and madness needed to transport people all the way out here. Nevertheless, he was clearly anxious to leave this accursed place.

Frisk moved up and undid two of the four horses moored to the front of coach, and leashed them to a railing standing up against an ancient, long-crumbled stone wall. The beasts themselves were almost as shriveled and starved as their owner, but Frisk had been assured they would be strong enough to carry them home, once their business here had concluded.

The coach-driver immediately brought the carriage around. His cackle a mix of madness and relief as he sped to the relative safety of Astora.

 

–---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Chara looked over the vast expanse of wizened grass, gnarled trees and jagged rocks that littered the moor in-between them and their destination – the lost city of Arnvolt.

 

From here, she could just barely see the city walls, stretching for miles in either direction, and several spires and buildings jutting up behind it. A cathedral, perhaps the inner keep or a few noble residences.

She couldn't help but smile at the challenge in front of her. Her new life back in Ebott had been comfortable, to say the least, but also boring. Even with the Darksign causing havoc abroad, life in the quaint little kingdom remained mostly the same. That was until the first signs had appeared on their own populace. When the royal sorcerer had hinted a the possibility of a cure, she had leaped at the chance to repay her saviors. When she had been told it was certain death to go, she considered it a fair price to pay.

At her side, the monster-prince was far lest enthusiastic. Crossing the moorlands below them, and fortunately heading away, was a great herd of hollows. A shambling, moaning, tragic gathering of dregs. Even from here, he could see a few tokens of whatever previous lives they might have once lived. There was one with a tattered tabard, another one clutching a long-rusted sword and yet another seemed to wear what looked like an old chef's hat.

 

Hollows were to many still a mystery. They contained no souls within them, and thus were nothing more than ravenous beasts, hungering after what they could never again possess. Nevertheless, hollows rarely stayed in one place, and could regularly be found wandering, often in great groups. Perhaps even they recognized a fellow kinship in their shared curse? Or maybe some last semblance of memory drove them onwards to places they had known in life?

 

“ _So that is what happens to humans... once they lose hope?”_ Asriel asked out loud with a saddened voice.

Chara looked down at the mob with a grunt of disgust. _“Yes, pathetic, isn't it?”_

“ _It's sad”_ The monster replied.

“ _Don't say that, the dregs down there were probably nothing more than murderers, thieves and scum in life, well-deserving of this fate”_

“ _Chara! No one deserves that!”_ The monster protested, looking hurt. _“And neither do you... I mean, weren't you a-”_

“ _I **WAS** , Asriel, but then again, I'm only human_” Chara finished.

 

“ _You two ready to go?”_ Asked Frisk from behind them. Without looking back, Chara simply began to clamber down the cliff to the moorlands. The horde of hollows had passed and would not bother them as long as they kept their distance.

 

Only Asriel stayed back and flashed them a friendly smile.

 

“ _Please, don't think too ill of her_ ” Implored the white-furred prince. _“I know my sister can come off as bit... cold, but she has had a rough life and doesn't easily trust other humans”_

Frisk raised a questioning eyebrow _“Your “sister”?”_

“ _Hah, yes, it is a... long story”_

 

For the first time, Frisk got a good overall look and impression of the monster. About roughly the same height and size as themselves, he looked like any other young-adult human from a distance, but up closer the differences quickly became clear. The white fur was one thing, another was his long, drooping ears and muzzle, almost making him resemble a goat or a sheep. Even shadowed by his hood, his eyes shone with an emerald green, quite fitting the friendly smile he sported.

 

He was totally out of place in a realm as misbegotten as this one.

 

“ _If you say so”_ Frisk said. As they glanced over at the disappearing herd of hollows, a piece of the conversation they had overheard came to mind.

“ _Is this the first time you've seen human hollows?”_ They asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.

“ _No- I mean yes! Yes, it is”_ The prince answered flustered.

Frisk nodded. _“So it's different for monsters? You don't turn into these... things?”_ Frisk asked, gesturing to the back of horde.

The prince turned to regard them as well. _“No, we... what do you know_ _about_ _monsters, Frisk?”_

“ _You have a small mountainous kingdom, well-versed in magic, I'm told”_ They answered nonchalantly.

“ _Hehe, yes, I suppose that is the gist of it, but there's more to it than that”_ The monster moved his right paw to his chest. _“The Darksign is an affliction of the soul, but our souls are a bit different than humans. Yours contain almost everything you are, your personality, your memories, everything that makes you, well, **you**. When The Darksign takes that away...”_

“ _We become, literally, hollow?”_

“ _Yes. Monster souls, on the other hand, only contain hope, compassion, and mercy. When we hollow we... turn into flowers”_ The prince finished with a saddened sigh.

“ _Flowers?”_ Frisk asked, surprised.

“ _Indeed, we lose our bodies, our ability to love and feel loved, kindness becomes meaningless to us but unlike you, we don't lose our memories or intelligence. Most people try to hold onto that, the people they used to be, but inevitably, without hope, they give in, becoming cruel, malicious flowers”_

From the way he was trembling, Frisk could tell that the prince was just barely keeping himself from choking up. _“And you have an outbreak of this back in Ebott?”_

He nodded _“Yes, and it's why we are here._ _If there's a cure, then we... we will stop at nothing to find it!”_ The prince finished resolutely, for the first time actually sounding and looking confident.

–---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“ _So that's it, huh?”_ Chara mused from behind Frisk, who was making up the vanguard of the trio.

“ _Arnvolt...”_

The great wall of the fallen city reared up in front of them, easily a full 30 meters high. The group had stopped up in front of a large breach- the edges black with soot and the rubble, strangely enough lying in front of the wall as if the hole had been blasted from the inside.

 

“ _I suppose you'll want your payment then”_ spat the rogue, moving up to join Frisk. The sellsword, in turn, simply nodded; no monetary reward could ever be enough to make them go inside that cursed place.

…

If just these two idiots shared that sentiment.

 

They noticed the cloaked prince pointing and shaking his magical staff at a cluster of rubble, no doubt looking for residual magic or traps, all the while sporting a heartwarming, childlike look of wonder on his face.

“ _Why in the world would the king and queen ever send their softie of a son on a quest like this...”_ they muttered under their breath. In front of them, Chara made a guilty frown as they reached for the gold purse hanging on their belt.

That, in itself, was all the answer they needed.

“ _Wait, they don't know?”_ Frisk asked, louder this time.

The frown on the rogue's face deepened.

“ _Lords of Lordran! What were you thinking!? That this is some kind of “run-away from home” adventure!?”_

“ _It's not like I could have stopped him, even if I wanted to!”_ Chara suddenly snapped back with venom, starring Frisk straight in the eyes.

“ _Are you two arguing again?”_ Asriel called and made to join them. The sellsword drew in a breath. _“Listen, I know you mean well, but going into this place is a death sentence, which for you is far worse. I urge you to reconsider”_

“ _We're **not** turning around and giving up now” _ came the immediate, stern answer from the monster. _“If there's even the slightest chance of there being a cure in there, then we're going”_ followed the human rogue.

 

Frisk clenched their fists in frustration. In their line of work, learning to emotionally detach yourself from the people that paid you was crucial, and honestly, it was easier than one might think; most people in need of mercenaries were either criminal or of a highly morally ambiguous nature. But here were two people, full of purpose and willing to risk their very souls for their people on a quest that might very well prove futile.

Frisk had known them for less than a day, but still, imagining the rambunctious, lively rogue as a mere hollowed dregling, and the kind-hearted prince as a cruel little flower almost made the feel sad.

…

No, not almost.

 

The human, Chara, moved forward and reached out with the gold purse, a scowl on their face.

“ _I can't accept that”_ Frisk flatly stated.

Chara cocked her head to the side _“Oh? Still think you can stop us from going?”_ She asked slyly.

Frisk reached up and softly batted the offered purse away. _“No. I can't accept that because I haven't fulfilled my end of the bargain yet”_

Chara's only answer was a steely gaze with those scarlet eyes of hers, something that was quickly becoming a trademark. Behind her, a hopeful smile blossomed on Asriel's face.

“ _I am duty bound to protect you against any threat you might face. If that requires me to follow you into Arnvolt_...” They drew breath in, quietly frustrated at how easily they would throw caution to the wind, because of some silly emotions.

 " _T_ _hen so be it”_

Chara raised a doubting eyebrow _“You seemed quite unwilling to do so just a few minutes before”_

“ _I changed my mind”_

“ _Well, I, for one, am happy to have you with us”_ butted the chipper voice of the monster in.

 

Nevertheless, Chara stood her ground, arms crossed. Her eyes looking over Frisk, searching for any kind of doubt, any hint of an ulterior motive. Frisk bore her scrutiny with unflinching determination, matching the piercing glare of the scarlet-eyed rogue with an icy calmness.

 

“ _Uhhm, guys?”_ Asriel said nervously.

 

“ _Fine”_ Chara finally relented after a few more seconds. Turning to point at the breach in the wall. _“After you then, oh,”great duty bound one””_ she said with thinly veiled scorn.

 

Without deigning to answer, Frisk immediately moved to the great, yawning breach. Despite the light of midday, the interior of the wall beyond the breach was completely shrouded in thick darkness.

 

They heard the shuffling of feet as their two charges stopped up behind them.

 

This was so stupid, so supremely foolish. Countless of adventurers made of sterner stock than themselves had marched into these ruins, never to be heard from again. Every instinct screamed at them to turn around. But deep inside, a voice, quiet yet somehow more audible than the rest told them that this was the right thing to do.

 

Throwing away the last semblance of reason and caution garnered from countless battles, they stepped inside.

 

And so it was that six feet entered the cursed city of Arnvolt. The feet of the determined, the bold and the valiant.

 

As fate would have it, only two would ever leave again.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Arnvolt, Lost City of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!
> 
> A bit shorter chapter, this one, but I felt it was a good place to end.
> 
> Please, do enjoy :)

**Arnvolt, Lost City of Light**

 

The Abyss, in its relentless advance, displaced many families, peoples and cultures, all fleeing from the encroaching darkness.

 

They believed that by banding together, they could succeed where they had all individually failed.

 

Thus, they proved that the lessons they had learned from their encounters with the Abyss were the wrong ones.

 

 

The darkness of the interior of the wall was stifling, thick, choking. Even as Frisk's eyes slowly grew accustomed to it, they could barely see more than a meter ahead.

 

They were just about to call to the others to back out when a huge wave of light spread from somewhere behind them. Spinning around, they found the source to be Asriel's staff, a glowing orb of light that gingerly moved itself to the top of his head.

 

**Cast Light**

 

Ancient sorcery of the lost land of Oolacile.

Casts a bright light upon surroundings.

 

This light-producing sorcery is elementary but nonetheless demonstrates the achievements in mysticism of Oolacile. Such magic has not been developed even in Vinheim. Perhaps due to their positive and cheerful disposition, the monsters of Ebott had little trouble translating this light-giving spell for their own use.

 

 

“ _Huh, that's a neat trick”_ Frisk said, slightly impressed. The proud smile they got from the prince in response did it more than justice.

 

“ _Top of his class in sorcery school”_ Chara said proudly, as she playfully punched his shoulder. The prince, in turn, blushed a deep red, and Frisk was once again taken aback by the sheer strangeness of it all; here they were, in the most cursed place in the realm, and they were in the presence of a living, cuddly teddy goat.

They shook their head. Yes, they were in the most dangerous place in the realm, and they had to focus.

 

“ _Enough dallying”_ Frisk called _“Stay close to me; we don't know what's in here”_ Behind them, they heard both of them step up, even Chara, thankfully, fell in line without a spiteful remark.

 

For almost a full hour they walked, Frisk in front with sword and shield, Asriel in the middle, lighting the way with his staff, and Chara, knife drawn, watchful for any beast or creature that might attempt to sneak up on the group, all the while looking for a way out of the inside of the wall and into the city proper. Walking along chipped and broken stone and in near total darkness save for the light coming from the prince's staff.

 

They passed trough empty corridors, long-deserted guard rooms and deathly eery mustering halls. Here and there they found evidence of the city's previous occupants and of the many adventurers that had made the same journey they were now undertaking; a discarded, long-rusted sword lying on the floor, tattered banners hanging on the walls, even a long-forgotten feast hall, plates still laden with rotting, spoiled food.

 

Yet most damning was a large cluster of not-quite decomposed adventurers lying in a corner. Frisk had stopped up upon laying eyes on them, feeling a tingle of trepidation run up their back.

There were about five bodies, most of them naught but skeletons now, but a few of them still had rotting pieces of flesh hanging from their bones, couldn't be more than a few months old.

And the bones themselves...

Almost none were whole; most snapped and drained of their marrow, as if some fiendish ghoul had overcome the group on its own, and made a feast of the spoils.

If the legends about the city were only half-true, Frisk knew that could very easily be the case.

 

Behind them, they heard the prince whimper in fear at the grizzly scene, and the light coming from his staff dimmed as if he was trying to blind them from the sight. Chara instead, gave off a concerned grunt.

 

“ _What could have done that?”_ the rogue asked. Frisk merely shrugged _“Whatever is was, it might still be here, stay sharp”_ The prince tenderly reached a paw back and in quick response, Chara stepped forward to take it into her hand.

 

Once again they walked for what seemed like hours, passing trough rooms that seemed like carbon copies of the ones they just exited. Slowly, even Frisk's determination started to crumble at their inability to find an exit into the city, the fear and darkness settling upon their shoulders as a deep dread that threatened to drive them mad. There was no life here, not even spiders crawling in their webs or mice digging into holes in the wall, nothing.

Behind them, the prince was now openly in tears and the rogue was vigorously watching the darkness behind them, breathing heavily.

 

“ _There's something out there... in the dark_ ” Chara whispered quietly, eliciting a loud, fearful sob from Asriel. Frisk, instead, almost turned around to berate the rogue, partly because her sentence frightened them, but also because of the breakdown in whatever discipline the group had left it caused.

But instead, they felt a gentle breeze slide across their cheek.

 

Frisk eyes immediately snapped to where it came from, finding an old oaken door, the wood rotten and holed in several places.

“ _In there!”_ They shouted with relief, and briskly dashed forward, throwing the door aside.

 

The room revealed to them was both relieving and troubling. A great gate stood half-opened with blood-red evening light shining trough the crack, leading into the city.

 

But in front of them was a troubling omen.

 

In the dim darkness just beyond the reach of the light coming from Asriel's staff sat a circle of about 12 robed dead monks around a single, large individual. All of them were shriveled, emaciated figures, their arms frozen in a strange gesture towards the middle figure.

 

With a fear choked breath, Frisk realized that it was still alive.

 

The centered one bore an illustrious robe that despite its apparent age, still showed many icons and heraldic images upon it. The figure was kneeling in their direction, quietly muttering prayers of some sort

 

“ _Ch-C- Chara!”_ Asriel whimpered as he tightly gripped the rogue.

But another heard the prince's plea as well.

 

The kneeling figure suddenly stopped its sermon. Slowly, gently, it raised its head to regard the tree newcomers with empty eye-sockets and hanging jaw.

 

“ _A hollow...”_ Frisk uttered, tightening the grip on their sword and shield. In a way, this was a mixed blessing; combat helped to take their mind away from the dreadful place and their task, but from the looks of it, this was no ordinary hollow.

 

As their side, Chara suddenly appeared _“Stay back Asriel”_ she said, as she drew her kitchen appliance weapon.

 

In the face of their resistance, the robed hollow stood – no – hovered to its feet, and let out a bone chilling scream. A scream that spoke of anger and a hunger it could never understand and never sate. In its hand small, dead orbs of magical light began to form

“ _So, any ideas!?”_ Chara asked as she spread her stance in a preparation of a dodge.

“ _Get around it”_ Frisk offered _“I'll try to hold its attention while you-”_

They were interrupted by a powerful sphere of energy  that slammed into their shield with bone-rattling force  and they slid back along the ground. To their side, Chara picked up on the unfinish ed instruction and dashed into the shadows, out of sight.

The robed hollow hovered closer as it prepared a new barrage. It's jaw opened and snapped rapidly as if it was imagining chewing on their flesh already. It represented another mystery around those suffering from The Darksign. While the curse practically drained one of all memories, personality and spirit, sometimes an individual had been so powerful in magic or arms in life that a sliver of their majesty stayed with them, even in undeath.

Frisk took a moment to stand up straight, and roll their now sore shoulder. Chara would have to hurry; a few more of those and they would be done for.

Behind them, the light coming from Asriel's staff suddenly grew bright orange, and an immensely muscle-soothing sensation overcame them. They looked back, finding the prince, wet trails on his cheeks but a stout determination in his eyes, pointing his staff at their back. Out of it came small, dust-like wisps the seeped into them.

 

**Great heal**

 

Glorious miracle used by high-ranking clerics. Restores a large amount of HP for self and those in the vicinity.

 

Only a select few have learned to recite  this epic tale in it's entirety, but those who do are amply rewarded. The magical academy of Hotland spent many decades and bent many of their greatest minds to translate this spell. While they were successful, it still requires great skill and a deep desire to lessen the burden of others to cast.

 

 

Frisk quickly nodded their thanks before returning to the robed hollow, just in time to block another near arm-shattering magical orb and they were once again sent sliding back.

But this time their foot got caught on something.

With a surprised yelp, Frisk feel onto their back. They struggled to get up, but their sore arm and heavy armor frustrated the effort. Looking up, they saw a hungry look on the hollows face and a triumphant snarl escaped it's dried lips.

Just before the hollow could cast the orb that would have finished Frisk, the ghastly creature suddenly lurched forward with a pained howl. It took Frisk a moment to spot the great green cape fluttering around its head and the person it belonged to; Chara, having jumped onto its back, wrapped an arm around the hollow's throat and plunged her knife deeply into its neck

 

“ _NOW, IDIOT! WHILE IT'S STAGGERED!”_ She called.

 

Frisk immediately jumped to their feet and charged forward. The hollow thrashed maddeningly, trying to dislodge the rogue on its back, but her grip was firm and she would not yield.

 

As they got into range, Frisk tightened their grip on their sword and jumped up, smashing the blunt sword into the hollow's ribs, and feeling the brittle bones shatter beneath the skin.

 

The hollow let out a strangled cry of pain and lowered a thin hand to blast Frisk away, but the sellsword quickly lashed out with their shield, bashing the hand to the side before following up with another sword strike that shattered the hollow's knee-cap. Once again it let out a pained growl, but its voice became more and more distorted as Chara's knife repeatedly sunk into its neck.

 

The hollow, while strong in magic was weak in body and under the relentless assault it collapsed. It fell to its knees, managing to fire off one last magical orb, which Frisk easily deflected with their shield, sending it off somewhere into the darkness, before toppling over completely, dead. As it did, a glowing sphere manifested above its corpse and Frisk cautiously reached out to touch it.

 

**Soul of Arcanist Alasan**

 

Soul of Arcanist Alasan, one of many such powerful sorcerers tasked with upholding the magical shielding embedded into the city walls.

 

With enchanted walls made to keep out the abyss, and a large army tasked with fending off other threats, Arnvolt was thought to be all but unassailable from without.

 

Ironic then, that the city's inevitable fall had to originate from within.

 

Chara stood over the body, breathing heavily _“Sheesh, that was just about the nastiest hollow I've ever met”_

“ _Indeed”_ Frisk concurred _“And it was the first critter we met, which just tells that me that we really should turn around and head back for Astora”_

 

Chara immediately fixed a set furious red eyes upon the sellsword _“Still you persist in giving up!? If you are so afraid of death, then you can turn tail yourself, coward!”_

 

That was it.

 

“ _Easy for you to say!”_ Frisk snapped back _“You and your weakling brother are both branded! It's easy for you to be brave when you can't truly die! But you know what? I've done my part. If you two are so deadset on this foolish quest, then fine. But don't come crying to me when you hollow out or your sheepish brother turns into a damn tulip!”_

 

Chara stood stock-still, save for a slight quivering of their lower lip, and eyes burning with barely contained rage.

 

“ _You. Take. That. Back...”_ She said slowly. Just now, Frisk noticed the strangely deadly kitchen knife still clutched in Chara's hand and they tightened their own grip on their sword in anticipation.

When Chara suddenly jumped towards them, they almost smashed their blunt sword into them, only holding back when they noticed Chara hadn't raised her knife or were even aiming for them.

 

She was aiming for someone behind her.

 

“ _ASRIEL! WATCH OUT!”_ She screamed with desperation.

 

Frisk made to follow, finding the reason for Chara's sudden outburst, and feeling their heart sink in their chest.

 

A large rock, fallen from the roof and headed straight towards the prince.

 

“ _MOVE, ASRIEL!”_ Chara screamed, but already Frisk could it was too late.

 

All they saw was the large rock crashing down into the shocked-looking prince, and him turning into a large gust of dust as it did so.

 

For a moment, time stood still for Frisk. Sound became naught. The room was quite clearly crumbling- the powerful magic expended by the hollow clearly too much for the ancient stonework to bear. All around them, large boulders and stone were collapsing.

 

Chara was on her knees, hands on her shaking head.

 

“ _No, no, no, no, no, not my brother!”_ She bawled trough her hysterical fit.

 

Frisk regarded her in a strange, shocked manner. In the blink of an eye, the prince of monsters had perished and the once hard-boiled cutthroat rogue was bawling like a small child.

 

The impact of a large rock impacting less than a meter from them woke them up. Immediately, they fell to their knees, grabbing and shaking Chara by her shoulders.

“ _Hey! Snap out of it! The whole room is coming down, we have to go!”_

But Chara only shook her head harder.

“ _No! Asriel, my brother, he's gone!”_ She screamed.

“ _No, he's- he's branded by The Darksign, he'll be back!”_ Frisk answered, nervously eying the half-opened door to freedom behind them.

“ _But... we don't where he'll appear! He'll be alone! He doesn't... he can't stand being alone! And in a place like this!”_ Chara shouted back, at least now looking at Frisk, but from the looks of things they had mere seconds before the whole room collapsed.

 

“ _We'll find him, I promise! Just, get up so we can-”_

 

Those were the last words spoken by Sellsword Frisk in this life, as another large roof-tile fell down, crushing both the knight and the rogue to bloody pulp on the floor. The last feelings and sounds Frisk heard in the small fraction of a second in which their life was snuffed out was of their skull and spine cracking under the immense weight.

…

And yet...

This was not to be Frisk's first death.

For those branded by The Darksign, death is a mercy forever denied to them. Instead they are cursed to wander forever as mindless hollows, knowing nothing but hunger, pain and rage until the end of time and the embers rekindling.

But perhaps, the cruelest thing of all is not knowing whether one is cursed or not.

For The Darksign to appear, one has to die at least once. Perhaps fate's own cruel way of dangling sweet release before one's nose before evilly tossing it away, never to be retrieved.

 

That is what Frisk knew of the fate of those cursed by The Darksign.

 

And why their first response, when they suddenly opened their eyes beneath the evening sky was to scream.

Scream in despair, horror and denial.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Dark Adventure is just getting started...
> 
> That said, the next chapter I'm gonna write will probably be for The Price of Peace. I'm thinking of making 1 chapter a week, hopping between these 2 stories.
> 
> But until then, stay safe and try not to hollow!


	3. Emberlight Shrine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Our friends have made it inside the city of Arnvolt, and where another figure has been awaiting them.
> 
> A bit short chapter, this one, but fret not, our adventurers are far from done with their share of perils and dangers!

 

**Emberlight Shrine**

 

One of the mysterious bonfire shrines, located in what used to be Arnvolt's poorest district.

 

When the calamity that befell Arnvolt occurred, this district was one of the last to fall. The city's nobility; those that had once spurned it as a filthy, degenerate infested cesspit, soon found it to be the last safe refuge within the city, if only for a few days.

 

 

 

 _“No, no, oh sweet merciful gods, no...”_ Frisk whimpered as they feverishly tore at the straps that held their vambrace fastened to their arm. Their terror and fear frustrated their attempt and it took them several tries to do so.

But when they finally did and the vambrace fell to the ground with a dull thud, the sight before them was almost enough to make them scream in despair once again.

There, on their wrist, was a simple black circle. A single recursive line that seemed to shimmer red and yellow, like smoldering embers

 

The Darksign, the mark of those branded by the curse of undeath.

 

 _“_ _Welcome to the club”_ uttered a familiar voice, and Frisk looked up, finding Chara sitting up against a wall and cradling a quietly sobbing Asriel.

 _“Wha- who- what-”_ Frisk tried _“What happened? Well, in case you didn't notice; we died”_ Chara said bluntly. _“Not mine or Asriel's first death, no, that one was... far more messy”_ The rogue continued, and ran a hand trough Asriel's fur.

_“Wha-”_

_“And no, it never really gets easier, though, I suppose it was lucky this one was so fast. Heh, barely even felt a thing, right?_

_“_ _Bu-but how?”_

 _“How you were cursed? Who knows?”_ Chara said with a casual shrug _“In fact, no one knows how one gets cursed, perhaps we've rubbed off on you, huh?”_ She said with a mocking smile.

 

Frisk could only continue to stare wide-eyed as Chara confirmed every fear they had. Yes, they had died, hadn't they? Crushed to death by falling stones. And yet, here they were, sitting before a... warm bonfire?

 

Frisk reached a hand out to the strange effigy planted in-between them and Chara. Feeling, for the first time, warmth coming off of it.

Bonfires were another strange sign signaling a Darksign outbreak. A small pile of bones in which a coiled, flamberge-looking sword was stuck. Oddly thin flames licked up at the blade, misty, and while warm did not burn when touched.

Bonfires were said to the one and only comfort given to those unfortunate souls branded by The Darksign. Emitting a comforting warmth that only the branded could feel and somehow warding off creatures and beasts, thus creating a sanctuary and place of respite for those that could not find it, even in death.

Frisk had seen bonfires before, often crowded by those that would seek its fire and warmth, but they had never felt any kind of heat, comforting or otherwise, come off of it.

At least, not until now.

 

 _“We have one of those in Ebott as well”_ Chara suddenly started, voice unusually slow and somber _“Appeared out of nowhere one day, in the middle of a place we call Snowdin. A few days later, we had our first case of branded people”_ Frisk nodded along. It was a story they had heard many times before.

 

Whenever someone cursed died, they would reappear some time later at the closest bonfire, and they supposed the same was true for monsters.

 

Frisk returned to look at the mark on their wrist, and once again despair welled up inside them. As a sellsword, Frisk had long ago made peace with the fact they would die one day, either naturally or by the end of a blade. But now, everything had changed. There would be no peace, only the slow draining of their soul until hollowing came.

…

Unless the rumors were true.

 

Very little was understood about the curse, but it was widely known that remaining hopeful, positive and determined could stave off the curse, not indefinitely, but it could give one months left to live.

 

Frisk clenched their fist, feeling the Determination that had kept them alive and going all these years surge trough them. Yes, they were cursed, yes, they were more than likely to wander the earth for all time as nothing more than a ravening, soul-starved hollow, but there was hope! Asriel and Chara had come here in search of a cure for the Darksign, and while they were young and naive, they didn't seem stupid enough to run off on a suicide mission like this unless they were sure the cure was real.

 

No, they would NOT hollow. Knowing that a cure might exist filled them with Determination.

 

 _“_ _Woah_ _,_ _you got a fire in your eyes”_ Chara said, suddenly wary _“Strange. Most people break down when they find out they're cursed”_ she mused and gave Asriel an affectionate pat on his head. _“What are your thoughts?”_

For a few seconds, Frisk just stared at their clenched hands as renewed purpose flooded trough them.

 _“My thoughts... are the same as before”_ Frisk said, almost a whisper _“I still think coming here was foolish, supremely foolish... but it's a personal matter now”_

They slowly craned their head upwards to look at the other two. Asriel sat upright now, clutching Chara tightly like a small child would their favorite doll when scared of the terrors that might lurk in the night.

 _“If there's a cure to be found in this place then we will find_ _it_ _, even if I have to personally_ _sift trough every nook and cranny in this damnable place!”_ They finished strongly.

 

Ahead of them, Asriel smiled brightly at their words, eyes shining trough a mixture of hope and the remnants of his tears. Besides him, however, Chara fixed Frisk with an unimpressed glare. _“Ah, of course, now that_ _**you're** _ _cursed you're more than eager to find the cure right? Typical human, only looks out for themselves...”_

Frisk scoffed at her words. As a mercenary, one had to quickly learn to first and foremost look out for number one...

But, Chara was also wrong.

 

 _“What do we do now, then?”_ Asriel asked, having regained a bit of his composure.

 _“Arnvolt is a big place”_ Frisk broke in _“Full of nasties, but perhaps if we-”_

_“wandered off wily-nily you could hollow even faster and forget all of this even happened?”_

Frisk immediately jumped to their feet, drew their sword and turned to face the voice. Across the effigy, Chara did the same and pushed Asriel to hide behind her.

 

A cloaked figure stood atop a boulder, stocky, and with a hood which shape belied an oddly large head. It held up its hands, stepped down from the boulder and made towards them.

 _“easy there,_ _i'm not looking for trouble”_

 _“Who are you?”_ Frisk hissed, their sword held at the ready.

The figure stopped and turned the large, empty expanse inside its hood towards them.

_“heh, “who are you?” that ain't a way to greet a new friend, is it?”_

The figure reached up to pull it's hood down. Frisk held their breath, there was something about the figure that reminded them of someone, and as the hood feel, they knew.

 _I_ t was a short skeleton, with a comically shaped head and a too-wide-to-be-normal grin on its face.

But it was one they recognized from the stories nonetheless.

 _“sans the Explorer?”_ Frisk asked in confused wonder and lowered their blade.

 

 _“_ _glad to see my fame precedes me”_ said the skeleton, as much a figure of myth as reality, and just about the only monster famous outside of Ebott, alongside his brother, Papyrus.

Frisk stared in wide-eyed disbelief. Many books had been written of the adventures of the skeleton brothers, sans with his bright blue cloak and robes and his Brother Papyrus with his signature bright-orange scarf, stories and poems about distant lands visited and monstrous beasts defeated, although Frisk had long suspected that many of them were false or at least exaggerated, especially the one about sans grounding the great black dragon Kalameet with a jest so humorous the dragon lost control mid-flight out of sheer laughter.

But something seemed... off, about the skeleton. He looked tired, his clothes were dirty and his grin didn't even come close to how it was portrayed in the stories. For some reason, the word "crestfallen" came to Frisk's mind.

 

They heard a deep gasp from behind them.

 _“Gish gosh golly! It's sans the Explorer!”_ Shouted Asriel with a jump.

_“I'm your biggest fan! You and your brother are so cool!”_

 

The skeleton turned to regard the jumping monster, and Frisk noticed how its wide grin faltered just a bit.

 _“ah, you must be prince asriel_ _dreemurr_ _, right?”_

Another great gasp.

 _“Chara! Did you hear!? He knows my name!”_ Frisk couldn't help but crack a smile themselves, so infectious was the childlike joy of the white-furred prince.

 

But the skeleton obviously didn't share that sentiment.

 _“well, that blows...”_ he uttered quietly.

Immediately, Asriel stopped his excited jumping _“Why, what do you mean?”_ he asked, suddenly nervous.

 

 _“because if you're here, then it can only mean ebott got a bad case'o the curse, right?”_ Asked the skeleton, Asriel and Chara nodded sadly in response.

 _“and I can't believe ol' asgore and toriel would send their only children to a place like this,_ _which makes me think_ _that you_ _two are runaways who think they can save the world”_

 

Both of the so-called runaways gulped and exchanged a nervous glance with each other.The famous skeleton sighed and leaned against a wall. _“look,_ _I_ _haven't exactly been “in the loop” myself...”_ the skeleton started, and rolled up the sleeve of his cloak, revealing, not to Frisk's surprise, the black, smoldering circle of The Darksign.

 

 _“...but i have seen your story play out in this city time and time again... looking for_ _the fabled_ _cure here is not worth it, you will find only death and a one-way fast-track ticket to hollowing. You should just head back home and spend what time you have left with your friends and loved ones”_

Frisk grimaced at the skeleton's words, not deterred in the slightest. At their side, both Asriel and Chara put on brave faces.

 

 _“No a chance_ _, if there's a cure here, we'll find it”_ Chara retorted.

 _“That's right, we'll never give up, not as long as the monsters of Ebott suffer”_ Asriel followed up with a surprising authoritative tone.

 

 _“ah, you kids and your big dreams..._ _”_ sans said with a shake of his head, but slightly wider grin.

 _“whelp, you'll learn in time, guess_ _i might as well speed things along”_

 

Frisk raised a questioning eyebrow. Many of the stories surrounding sans's and Papyrus's adventures had the skeleton brothers fooling and tricking beasts to their doom, and this seemed ominously close to that.

 _“What do you mean?”_ they asked.

_“well, arnvolt is a big place, full'o things that'd make even a, heh, “knight” like keel over out of sheer fright, but i know a few shortcuts around this place”_

_“Why help us if you don't believe there's a cure?”_ Chara asked warily.

 _“i never said i don't believe there's one, just that it's not worth all the pain you'll go trough”_ with a sigh, the skeleton's eyes feel _“i don't like watching kids like you suffer, so if my help could convince you to head on back quicker..._ _so much the better, right?”_

 

No agreement from the trio was forthcoming, having one who knew their way around Arnvolt wold be highly useful... if it wasn't because said individual was famed for being devious and deceitful.

And what was he even doing here?

 

The white-furred prince suddenly took a step forward, voice timid as he spoke _“Ehhm, Mister sans?... Where's your brother, Papyrus?”_ he asked.

 

The skeleton fixed the prince with what Frisk could only describe as a thousand-yard stare. He did not answer, but perhaps his reaction was answer enough. Almost as if on queue, a brisk gust of wind swept trough the ruined district, and for the first time, Frisk noticed the bright orange scarf around the skeleton's throat, now fluttering in the wind.

They looked over their shoulder, finding a look on Chara's face that told them they had drawn the same conclusion. The rogue gently placed a hand on Asriel's shoulder.

 _“Asriel, come here”_ she said.

 _“Huh? B-but I want to see Papyrus!”_ the confused monster pleaded.

_“He's busy, we'll see him later. We have to prepare for the trek into the city”_

Asriel almost made to respond but was silenced by a firm but gentle tug from Chara that brooked no protest. Together, the two strange siblings stepped away to organize the group's supplies, leaving only Frisk and sans.

 

 _“I'm sorry about your loss”_ Frisk said after a few tense seconds _“From what I read about him, he was a great per- monster”_

sans huffed a dark laughter _“yeah... he really was. lucky, though, he didn't have the curse...”_

Frisk nodded slowly, understanding that the prince's wish would never come to pass.

 _“Is that why you came here, then? To find the cure?”_ They asked.

_“maybe it was, doesn't matter much to me anymore... lost far too much to ever make it worth it”_

_“We'll still try”_ Frisk answered, a bit strict.

_“oh yeah? and where were you planning on starting?”_

Frisk opened their mouth to respond, but nothing came of it. Perhaps Chara and Asriel had an idea, but they certainly didn't.

_“of course... you rushed headlong into this city, thinking the cure you'd immediately find some kind of clue, right?_

_“Well, no, but...”_

_“allow me to lend you a hand then... try the inner keep”_

Frisk narrowed their eyes, wary of the monsters help.

_“Why there?”_

_“place got an archive, i've seen it, might tell you something about this cure of yours”'_

 

Frisk looked askew and drummed their fingers along their blade. Despite his explanation, Frisk didn't entirely trust the skeleton nor the help he was offering, but they were out of options.

_–-------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 _“He's not as cool as I thought he would be...”_ Asriel pouted, as he went trough some of the food they had brought with them from Ebott.

 _“People are rarely as they appear to be_ _”_ Chara responded.

_“Heh, is that more of your “street-wisdom”?”_

_“Mock if you must, but these were things that kept me alive, until I...”_

_“I know”_

_“Yeah...”_

_“Remember when mom used to read us their stories when we had nightmares?”_

_“When_ _**you** _ _had nightmares”_

_“Oh, come on! You had some as well”_

_“Not as many as you”_

_“Hehe, I suppose not”_

_“They weren't that great, though, the stories”_

_“What!? I remember you laughing a lot of times!”_

_“Well... I suppose the action scenes were pretty cool”_

_“Chara... is Papyrus ok?”_

_“... Asriel... I think he-”_

 

 _“Are you two just about ready?”_ Interrupted that martial voice of Frisk.

 _“Bags are packed, spirits are high and nothing will stop us!”_ Asriel declared with a mock military salute.

 _“About as ready as we can be”_ Chara agreed, a bit more calmly _“We've got enough food and supplies for roughly 5 days... not that starving to death is any real cause of concern for us...”_

 _“Alright...”_ Frisk started _“sans has told me of a likely place that might have information on the cure, and he knows a shortcut there”_

 _“And where is that?”_ Chara asked carefully.

 

_“The inner keep of Arnvolt..._

_We're going to the Court of Unity”_

 


	4. The Court of Unity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our friends have arrived at The Court of Unity, once home to the leaders of Arnvolt.
> 
> But will they find the cure they seek? Or is there nothing else but gruesome deaths and even faster hollowing awaiting them within these long-abandoned corridors?

**Court of Unity**

The inner keep of Arnvolt and once home to the ruling nobles of the city, situated near the eastern wall, atop the highest point in the city.

Many different cultures made up the population of Arnvolt and from each of these, a leader rose. Together, these leaders were to guide their collective peoples trough the dark times that they knew were coming, yet when chaos struck, the peoples that had looked to these leaders for guidance found the Court of Unity's gates barred and sealed.

For what seemed like hours, the small group of now 4 walked trough sans The Explorer's' "shortcut" trailing trough abandoned buildings, short underground tunnels, and deserted homes. Sans in front, followed by Frisk, then Asriel and lastly Chara, who made up the rearguard.

At one point, they had walked trough a long abandoned domicile. Frisk had stopped up, seemingly taken by the pristine condition of it, dust hung heavy in the air and cobwebs cluttered the corners. There were no signs of a scuffle of battle, and for a fleeting moment, Frisk imagined that the original occupants might walk in at a moments notice as if nothing had happened.

They risked a glance out of a window, looking out over a small city square. Strange... "shadows" milled around down there; dark, swirly gaseous masses ringed by white and topped by two deathly pale eye-like orbs. One of them hovered close to the window and Frisk stepped aside for fear of being spotted by... whatever they were.

"Wha- what is this..." whispered a deathly voice trough the window "I don't... I can't feel anything... where am I...?"

Frisk tenuously held their breath. The thing sounded genuinely confused, but they felt that to make themselves known was to invite death.

Finally, the whispers receded as the strange shadow stalked away. "I just... someone, please..."

"some really "shady" characters, wouldn't ya say?"Frisk jumped, startled at the sudden voice that had appeared behind them. Sans.

"Uhh, what?" they tried. sans nodded out the window. "those things. a scholar once came to this city; told me about 'em, said they're called humanities"

Frisk raised an incredulous eyebrow "Humanities? You mean... those shadows, they're humans?"

"no, at least, not anymore, it's a complicated thing "the skeleton admitted with a shrug "but, as far as I know, when the explosion started this outbreak, some-"

"Wait, explosion?" Chara interrupted "What explosion?"

"oh, didn't i tell you?" The explorer asked with a teasing grin "there's a big ol' crater in the center of the city, guessing whatever destroyed the city came from there"

The 3 adventurers shared a few nervous glances as the skeleton continued "anyway, as i was saying, the scholar theorized that the explosion was magical in nature, and that it blasted many of the city's people's bodies apart. but because they were branded by the curse, their souls were unable to move on, but as they no longer had a physical body with The Darksign upon it, they were incapable of reincarnating or hollow even further. suffice it to say, those losers out there?" sans jerked a thumb out the window "they're havin' a bad time, for all time"

"That's a mean way of putting it..."Asriel said with a disapproving pout. The skeleton merely shrugged "whatever the case, by now, they're not much more than lost souls filled with misery, confusion and anger. so much, in fact, that they can kill you by merely touching, and believe me, as someone who needs to cling to the more positive sides of life, you reeeeaallly don't wanna get too close"

For a few moments, there was silence between the 4. Asriel slowly moved over to the window, looking out over the desolated cityscape. "What... happened to this place?" He wondered out loud.

"dunno" Came sans's simple reply.

"Let's just move on" Chara offered.

"Yeah, let's do that" Frisk agreed.

* * *

 

"Huh, bigger than your parents castle" Chara observed with a smirk and soft shoulder push to Asriel when they finally arrived at the gates of The Court of Unity, stepping out of the ruin of an old home and appearing in front of a gargantuan keep. Arnvolt was said to be created from a great variety of cultures fleeing The Abyss that had banded together, and the truth of that was more evident here than anywhere else. The keep looked like a beautiful mash-up of several architectural styles at once. One spire was made of stone, another of granite, a few places on the walls were beset by obsidian gargoyles while others had marble angels. On the front wall, above the barred main gate, hung more than a dozen crest-of-arms, each representing one of the cultures that had made Arnvolt their home; A black flower, a fiery stallion, a thrice-tailed comet and many others. Unlike the crests, however, the people they represented were now all long gone.

"It's your castle too!" Asriel retorted with a smile. Chara glanced slightly askew, almost looking... guilty for a moment, Frisk thought.

"Yeah... I suppose it is"she admitted with a short sigh.

"So, how are we supposed to get in?"Frisk asked out loud and gestured to the large, barred gate "You would need a battering ram and a few hours to break trough that thing"

"well, why don't you ask your prince-pal over there if he could batter it down for ya, then?" sans offered, jerking a thumb at Asriel, who took a step back in sudden confusion "Wha- me?" he asked, exasperated.

"nah, it's nothing" sans relented with a shrug and grin "but instead of butting heads with the gate, why don't you try the door instead?"

"The door?"Frisk questioned.

"yup, just go right 'round the tower there and you'll find it. x marks the spot"

"You're not coming?" Chara asked, a hint of a challenge in their voice.

"nope, i'm already on my last legs with this curse all, but you have fun storming the castle "sans said and gave a small wave "i'll be waiting for ya here, you kids don't stay out too late, ya hear?" he finished with a short wave before retreating back into the ruins they had come out of.

Frisk shook their head with a tired sigh but nonetheless started to move towards the corner.

"I'm really starting to hate that guy..." they heard Chara growl.

"I don't look like a ram..." Asriel muttered silently to Chara.

"... do I?"

* * *

 

"X marks the spot, huh?" Frisk asked out loud.

"Well... at least he didn't lie" Asriel retorted.

"Oh no, he just lead us on a wild goose chase!"Chara snarled angrily.

True to his word, a large "x" had been right around the corner, painted with soot upon a wall.

Nothing else.

"Well, I don't see any doors, do you?" Frisk asked.

"No, b-but sans wouldn't lie! He's a hero!... perhaps not as much as I thought but still..." Asriel replied with a sad shake of his head.

Frisk ran their hand along the wall. Perhaps there might be a hidden button somewhere? They had heard of an eccentric earl in Carim that had his manor riddled with secret doors and pathways, perhaps it was the same here.

"Wait, wait, wait!"Chara suddenly burst out "I used to... I mean, I once heard of a thieves guild in Vinheim that did something like this. Frisk, hit it with your sword"

"What?"

"Just do it! Trust me"

Frisk stared at the rogue for just a few seconds in wonderment. Frisk didn't consider themselves a weakling but they seriously doubted even they could just bash down a castle wall.

Still, it wasn't like their sword could get any more blunt.

They withdrew their blade from its scabbard, reared back, and threw a mighty strike at the wall, fully expecting to hit solid stone.

They almost toppled over in surprise when instead of stone, the sword passed trough the wall as if it wasn't even there. The wall itself disappeared with a sound of a hiss of air escaping an enclosed space. A hallway beyond was revealed.

"An illusionary wall!" Asriel exclaimed with an excited jump. "Why didn't I think of that!? Golly, you're so smart Chara!"The prince landed and immediately went over to give the rogue a quick hug.

"I have my moments "the rogue replied with a smug grin.

Frisk themselves looked over the recently appeared hole with amusement. Illusion magic was, as far as they knew, a simple but poorly understood school. Only the mages of long lost Oolacile had mastered it before their home had been taken over by The Abyss. Could it be that they had been amongst the peoples of Arnvolt in their flight?

They shook their head. It didn't matter now. A path had been revealed before them, and they still had a task to do.

* * *

 

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, the hallway was well illuminated. Sconces and candelabras hung on the walls, still lit despite the ages that had passed since a servant had last visited these halls.

"Woah, we have the same back in Ebott castle" Asriel noted upon seeing the still lit fixtures "Can't say the same for all the cobwebs, though"Chara added, as she tore an errant tuft of web off her shoulder with a grunt of disgust.

The hall stretched to either side, terminating in large, but rotted wooden doors in each side.

But, one of them had a silent guardian standing watch in front of it.

Frisk coolly looked it over. A knight, but the armor looked rusted, nearly to the point of crumbling to dust. It's head hung low, yet there were just a small rise and fall of the shoulder to give away that whatever it was, it was still alive. It held a halberd in its one hand, almost resting upon it as it were more a cane than a weapon

"A hollow?"Frisk heard Chara whisper at their side, as she came up to them.

They nodded "A hollowed knight"

"Bah, won't be a problem"

"No, but what if it's not alone? What If its moan will alert the others?"

"It won't..."

"How's that? What are- hey, Chara, wait!"

Chara crouched low and silently but swiftly stealthed towards the hollowed knight. Frisk almost had to rub their eyes at the sight. As Chara's cloak slid along the floor behind her it shimmered and turned itself, as well as Chara underneath it, almost transparent. The cloak had not made Chara entirely invisible, yet for some reason, Frisk had trouble focusing on her. It was like a nondescript object placed on a table, unable to be found unless it was pointed out to one.

As Chara got within a few meters of the hollow, it slowly raised its head, its dulled senses at least registering that something was off. What might have once passed for alarm went across its dead face and as it just barely noticed the shimmering Chara in front of it, it opened it's mouth to let out a hungering moan.

Yet instead of a moan coming out, Chara's dagger went in, into the mouth, and trough the back of its head in a lightning fast strike.

The hollow collapses immediately. As it did Chara caught the corpse and gently placed it on the floor to avoid the armor clanking loudly off the floor.

It was dead. Soon enough the body would vanish, to reappear at the nearest bonfire, but for now, the danger had passed.

"Not bad" Frisk said, genuinely impressed. The floor beneath them was rotted wood, creaking loudly with each step, yet Chara had been silent as a cat in her dash.

"Tsk, t'was naught but child's play" Chara responded and made a mock bow.

Which proved very fortunate for her.

 

Just as she bowed low a rotted arm smash trough the door the hollowed knight had been guarding, reaching hungrily for where Chara's head had been just a second ago.

The rogue stumbled forward, surprised but out of reach for the moment.

"CHARA!"Asriel shouted and ran past Frisk to help his sister off the floor, who nonetheless pushed him away with a dismissive grunt and turned to face the newest threat.

The hollow the arm had belonged to smashed trough the door, shattering it to splinters, revealing itself as another hollowed knight, unarmed but armored.

And, unfortunately, with a fully functioning mouth.

It let out a soul-chilling moan and Frisk cursed as they imagined that every single thing the keep must have heard it.

 

The hollow lunged at Chara, arms outstretched to tear the rogue to bloody pieces. Frisk just barely managed to step in and deliver a backhanded blow with their blunt sword, hard enough to turn the hollow's head 180-degrees, snapping the neck. It collapsed beside the other, gasping and twitching in its death throes.

"Lords of Lordran..."Chara breathed out "Damn thing nearly took my head clean off"

"Almost" Frisk agreed "And if we don't hurry on, something else still might. Everyone and their grandmother must have heard that moan"

Almost as if on cue the door at the other end hallway shattered into splinters with a loud crack. Frisk dared a look over their shoulder, muttering a quiet curse to themselves as they did.

A large group of hollowed knights and castle servants pushed themselves through the doorway. At their feet, rotted hounds bounded past them. Ribs exposed and rotten innards trailing from ruptured bellies behind them. They snarled and barked at the adventurers with yellowed teeth that dripped with pus and vile poison. Whatever darkness had overcome Arnvolt had evidently infected the animal life as well.

Without a word, the 2 humans and monster ran trough the doorway the 2ndhollow had come trough.

What followed was a mad, panicked dash trough the hallways of a long-darkened fortress. They passes trough what might have once been meeting halls, offices, lounges and even what looked like a trophy-hall come to life trough dark magic, all the while with cursed hounds and hollowed guards snapping at their halls. Frisk ran in front, pushing whatever obstacle, unliving or otherwise, that dared stand in their way aside with their shield.

They only stopped when they entered small room, with a just as small staircase in front of them, only wide enough to allow a single person to walk it at a time.

"Go up!"Frisk ordered "I'll hold them off, find something to block the stairs, quickly!"Chara nodded her accept and quickly grabbed Asriel by the wrist who quickly followed after.

Frisk turned around, shield raised.

And just time.

One of the fetid hounds lounged at Frisk, smashing into them with reckless abandon, harshly enough to almost make them fall over backwards, but Frisk just barely managed to keep their footing. Its jaw closed tight around their shield and Frisk winced as they heard the sound of teeth cracking and snapping on the hard steel.

They slashed down with their blunt sword, hitting the hound on its back and snapping its spine with a sickening pop-like sound.

Slowly, Frisk backed up the stairs. A few of the hounds dared the same moved as their predecessor but were all rewarded with the same fate. They had made it almost 10 steps up when something strange occurred to them.

The hollowed knights weren't attacking.

Instead, they were assembled at the foot of the staircase, starring... not at Frisk but at the double-doors at the top of the staircase, doors Asriel were even now frantically trying to open, while Chara pushed a bookshelf into position beside him, no doubt intending to send it careening down the staircase once Frisk was clear.

Hollows were more beast than human, mindless beasts at that. They were entirely too single-minded and beastly to ever allow what they perceived as prey to get away...

… Unless they sensed a greater predator.

Frisk finally reached the top and stepped aside, allowing Chara to push the heavy bookshelf down, smashing trough the few fetid hounds that had dared follow them, and even crushing a few knights at the foot of the staircase. The few that could picked themselves up off the floor, then quietly stalked out of the room.

"Why aren't they following us...?" Chara asked out loud.

Frisk didn't have an answer to give, but felt like it would be best if they moved on before said answer came to them.

"Guys? I-I'm sorry but I can't get it open" Asriel whined apologetically as Frisk moved up behind him. "Step aside" they said.

"I'm sorry..." Asriel repeated as he nonetheless complied. "I could try some of my magic, maybe blow it apart. Oh! Wait, I know! I could-" The loud crash of Frisk's plated boot that kicked the door in drowned out the prince's suggestion, replaced instead by a sharp yelp as he was startled by the noise.

The room ahead must once have been a great meeting hall. A wide, round table dominated the center, laden with ancient, yellowed paper and parchments. Along the walls of the room stood several bookcases, wine cabinets, and paintings.

"Chara... is this the same as the throne room back home?"Asriel asked his sister as they all cautiously stepped inside.

"I think it is" She replied "A lot more flashy, though"

Frisk tuned out the sibling's banter, wary eyes scanning the room. It was quiet but the dust on the floor was scattered and uneven. Someone, or something might still be in here.

"sans said to look for an archive" Chara chimed in "Well, there is a lot of books in here" Asriel concurred and picked up a pair from a nearby shelf ""The Astoran guide to proper sun-praising" and "A walk in Darkroot Garden" Hah, I think dad would like this one, Chara!" Asriel said, and waved the example to the rogue.

Chara paid him no heed, however. Like Frisk, a sudden bad feeling had settle upon them. She felt... watched and in danger.

Frisk had reached the table in the center of the room. Amidst all the clutter, a single folder stood out with the many etchings and symbols upon, clearly something important. They gently brushed the dust on the front away, revealing the word "Soulsever" written in fine cursive.

 

Before they could open the folder, a powerful crash resounded trough the room and the floor shook powerfully enough to throw Frisk off their feet. They heard Chara call out in alarm and Asriel shout for his sister.

They rolled unto their back, finally getting a look at whatever had just landed.

And immediately wished they hadn't.

Never in Frisk's many years as a sellsword had they seen such an abomination. A bloated "ball" of bruised and torn human flesh nearly the height of a small house, with legs, arms and screaming heads jutting out at random.

And the wailing... the sound of dozens of tortured souls crying out in crazed despair, yet still with a hint of cruel clarity that told Frisk that whatever this thing was, it was fully aware of its fate.

They caught a glimpse of green beside the abomination and saw, with horror, Chara, entangled in a mass of grasping appendages. The rogue kicked, punched, cut, stabbed and even bit with furious snarls to release herself, but Frisk could it was a lost cause. For every limb she got off, 2 more would reach out of the spherical body to grab unto her.

Frisk got to their feet and ran to assist "CHARA! HOLD ON, I'LL SAVE YOU!" they heard the prince call. Immediately after, a great light emanated from around Asriel, followed by a "woosh" as several fireballs soared into the fleshy abomination. The heads closest to the points of impact screamed in pain as the skin crackled and seared beneath the fire, but it would not yield its green-cloaked price.

Frisk closed in on the beleaguered rogue and raised their sword to strike. Before the blow could land, an arm, like a great sea creature breaking surface, tore trough the skin of the beast in a spray of blood to grab unto Frisk's free arm and yanked them aside with inhuman srenght, out of range. Frisk screamed in equal parts disgust and equal parts frustration at the interruption. Beside the arm, a serrated spine of bone jutted out and the arm pulled, intending to impale Frisk upon it.

They hacked down at the arm with their blunt sword, blows heavy with fear and desperation. With mere centimeters to spare, the arm finally let go, bone and nerves shattered to uselessness.

Frisk turned to help Chara once again, but they were only greeted by a horrible sight.

Another arm, fingers ending in sharp, torn nails reached out from within the abominations body and clasped around Chara's throat. Chara's eyes went wide in short panic. Then, the arm pulled back.

And in so doing tore out Chara's throat in a spray that covered the grasping limbs in red. For just a few moments, all Frisk could hear was the rogue choking on their own lifeblood... and the prince's cry of despair.

"CHARA! NOOOOOOOOO!" Asriel screamed, collapsing unto his knees and holding his head in his paws.

A recently sprouted leg that limply kicked Frisk over the shins woke them up from their stupor. A fanged maw had opened up in the abomination and the arms were pulling the now-dead rogue in.

Without thinking, Frisk suddenly dashed forward and grabbed the strange kitchen knife still held in Chara's hand.

 

**Knife of the Daemon**

A seemingly inconspicuous looking kitchen knife. This utensil can nonetheless inexplicably cut trough even the heaviest armor like a hot knife trough butter.

Legends speak of a daemon of Lost Izalith that once wandered a far-away land, spreading chaos, destruction, and mayhem wherever it went. One day, the daemon experienced an emotion it had never done before; loneliness. Seeking companionship yet knowing it could never achieve it with the heinous deeds it had committed, it transformed itself into a tool, hoping to find an owner, and trough that, peace of heart.

How this ended up in the hands of Chara, rumored to be the consort-companion of the prince of a small kingdom and one who has never been anywhere near Lost Izalith, is a mystery.

Frisk shook their head clear of the invasive thoughts and turned their attention towards the beast's maw. A bloated, wart-riddled tongue licked Chara's corpse and some of the nearby heads hummed in apparent satisfaction at the taste. It had completely forgotten about Frisk and they were not about to waste this chance for revenge.

They gently edged closer, clutched the knife tight in their hand. Then, they rammed it into the abomination's mouth. Almost every single head screamed in pain as Frisk repeatedly stabbed, tore the weapon out and stabbed again. The arms holding Chara's corpse released their morsel and scrambled to push Frisk away, yet the Determined Knight stood their ground, cutting and stabbing the beast's, hopefully, only mouth to bloody ruin.

Suddenly, its tongue whipped out and coiled around Frisk's leg with enough force to elicit a metallic creak from their armor. It pulled the leg aside and Frisk collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud. Swiftly, the tongue began to retract into the mouth, pulling Frisk with it. Long rows of both dull and sharp teeth emerged from within the maw and Frisk's blood ran cold, in just a few seconds they would be eaten, gnashed and gnawed to death. They would reappear back in Emberlight Shrine no doubt, but their journey to the Court of Unity would have been for naught.

And just when they had found such a promising lead!

One of heads above the maw laughed at Frisk's imminent demise, replaced by a scream of pain as Frisk stabbed out with the knife, tearing a deep gouge in the tongue. The wound was deep but Frisk was at bad angle. They drew ever closer to the maw, and Frisk saw what might be called the thing's lips tense up in preparation of a bite. Frisk closed their eyes, knowing that the next few moments would be excruciating pain as they were eaten alive. Teeth would tear their flesh, jaws would crush their bones, heat would...

… heat?

 

Frisk opened their eyes at the unexpected sensation, just in time to see a white-hot fireball soar past above them.

Directly into the beast's mouth.

A great gout of flame stormed out of the beast's maw in response, washing over Frisk yet not burning them. The tongue around their leg tensed up even harder, almost enough to shatter their bone, but it also stoped retracting. They had almost expected the abomination to scream in pain once again.

Yet all they heard was sighing.

They looked up. The grotesque blob was... deflating. Many of the once spastic limbs hung dead and limp on the body, and those heads that still seemed alive sighed in... contentment?

The tongue released Frisk and they immediately scurried away from the dying abomination. As the last head fell silent, a small glowing sphere seeped out of the beast's lolling mouth and flew into Frisk.

 

**Souls of The Beast of Unity**

A cluster of souls once belonging to the absolute top of Arnvolt nobility.

Many leaders governed over Arnvolt and there were many disputes between them. The one subject they could agree on, however, was the coming spread of The Abyss. Polling together their knowledge, resources and experiences, and with the aid of a foreign and strange but nonetheless highly learned sorcerer, they sought for a way to free themselves and their peoples from the curse of The Darksign... and succeeded.

Yet, when the time came their hearts failed and from their cowardice was born a terrible curse, binding the fallen leaders of Arnvolt in a prison of flesh, forever reminding them of the bond they should have shared and nurtured in life.

 

Frisk breathed heavily in cold- and hot sweat. So that thing had been the... and they had found a cure? An honest-to-god cure!? The rumors were true!

They stood up and looked back, ecstatic to share the news with the surviving prince. But instead, Asriel passed past them. His one arm was slightly aglow, no doubt the source of the fireball that had ended the abomination. Yet the most chilling feature was the look on his face.

The lips on his muzzle were pulled back, and he bore a furious expression, his eyes full of a hate that had no business being in one such as him, still looking at the now-dead creature. To Frisk, he looked more like a snarling animal than the placid prince he had been just a few minutes ago.

He walked up to the dead monstrosity and his paws curled into fists. For just a moment, Frisk imagined he was about to punch and kick the thing out of sheer grief.

But instead, he fell to his knees, gently picked up the corpse of his sister and hugged it close

"Ch-c- Chara" they heard him whimper "I-I'm so sorry..."

Frisk scowled in sympathy. This was almost exactly the same that had happened when they had entered the wall, when Asriel had died and Chara had grieved. Chara was marked by The Darksign and thus, their body here would soon disappear, to reawaken, alive, back at the shrine and Asriel no doubt knew that as well.

But still...

Even to Frisk, one who hadn't known the rogue for longer than a day, watching them die like that, torn apart by monstrous hands, had been almost devastating. They could only imagine how heartrending it must have been for the prince, one who loved her so dearly, to see her die.

Frisk walked over, the danger had passed and they had a few moments to grieve and recover, but they had to hurry, the hollowed knights might sense that The Beast of Unity was now dead and come for them soon.

They placed a hand on the sobbing prince's shoulder, trying to think of a few comforting words.

"There, there" they cooed, perhaps sounding a bit too much like a parent would to their own crying child for their own liking "I'm sure she's missing you back at the shrine as well, so why don't you take a minute to recover yourself, then I-" something was... wrong about Asriel. He felt "off" to touch. His fur seemed as soft as they would have expected, but the skin underneath felt oddly spongy.

Almost like a plant.

They caught a glimpse of green on their gauntlet and pulled it back with bathed breath. There, caught in a chink in the armor, was a single dull leaf.

Frisk could only stare in dread at the small thing, this small omen. All the while, the only sound they could hear was their own heavy breathing.

And Asriel sobbing out of hopeless despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for the long wait between chapters. I have recently begun on my exams that, coupled with the Christmas rush, doesn't leave much time for writing.
> 
> But! Rest assured, I have no intention of abandoning this project. It may take time but Frisk and co. will (hopefully) find a cure within Arnvolt one day.


	5. Church of All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!
> 
> This is probably THE darkest chapter so far and will (SPOILER ALERT) include the rather gruesome death of all of our 3 adventurers. If you are not comfortable with an explicit scene of them dying... badly then feel free to skip this chapter entirely as there is very little actual plot progression...
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> You're... still here?  
> Alright then...  
> You have been warned.

**Church of All**

A large, multi-cultured cloister situated near the boundary between the noble and government quarter of Arnvolt.

In an effort to find common ground between the many cultures of Arnvolt, a group of tolerant, peace-seeking priests sought to unify, instead of divide, with the help of their stigmas and dogmas, establishing the Church of All.

Yet on the day of Arnvolt's fall all the gods were silent. Mayhap the old adage “A friend of everyone is a friend of none” proved true.

 

* * *

 

  
It had turned to evening once Frisk and Asriel had finally exited out the illusionary wall in The Court of Unity with which they had entered in the first place. Frisk had feared that with the keep being filled with so many hollows escape would have been impossible, but the keep's decaying inhabitants had given them a wide berth, perhaps even they could sense the superior predator moving amongst them?

Whatever the cause of their reluctance, Frisk was grateful. Of more immediate concern, however, were their surviving companion.

The sight of Chara's throat being ripped out was still fresh in Frisk's head and they could only imagine how horrible it must have been for the prince who adored her so much. Ever since they had left the room of her not-quite-death, Asriel had been silent, face cast low, dragging his feet and clutching Chara's knife, her favored weapon close to himself.

Asriel had told them that once a monster afflicted by The Darksign lost hope and hollowed completely they would turn into unfeeling, cruel flowers. Despite his apparent sincerity, Frisk had still found it hard to believe, yet the small leaf they had found nestled in his fur would seem to indicate that he was right.  
… And that he was coming dangerously close to hollowing.

The 2 of them had begun to backtrack the shortcut sans had shown them. The Explorer himself was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't all that surprising. Perhaps he had gone back to Emberlight Shrine to see on Chara or perhaps he had simply run off.

Frisk heard a small whine escape the caprine monster to her side. They would be lying if they said that even with them being a seasoned mercenary, the sight, and sound of the monster being despondent tore at them.

“Hey, cheer up, friend. I'm sure Chara is waiting for us back at the shrine. Bet she can't wait to see you”  
The prince didn't answer. Frisk bit her lip in a nervous fit, were they only making things worse by talking?  
“I think she'll be happy once you give her her knife back... Oh, and I found these plans at The Court of Unity, I think they mention a cure, that'll be sure to put a smile on her face, don't you think?”  
He still didn't answer, but he did look up, raising his head slightly. A deep pain was visible on his face.  
“I should have saved her... she wouldn't have died... suffered like that if I had just been faster” He said, almost a whisper.  
'Ah, so that's it' Frisk thought “Hey, look, whatever that thing was back there it got the drop on all of us, I don't think anyone cou-”  
“But I'm not just “anyone” to her!” Asriel suddenly snapped back with a beastly growl “I'm her older brother and I promised to protect her, but... I couldn't. I promised but I still let her down”  
“Asriel, we're in the most dangerous place in all the lands, no one would ever blame you for what happened back there”  
“If not blame me then who?”

Frisk looked aside. It would be all too easy to just blame the abomination that actually slew Chara and they would be right, but something told them that no matter what they said at this point, it wouldn't help lift the prince's spirit. Perhaps a change of subject would do the trick.

“I've never been to Ebott, you know” Frisk began, trying to sound as casual as possible “And I have been to a lot of places, mostly places with a lot of trouble, though”  
“... We don't have a lot of trouble in Ebott” he responded, looking, but not sounding sad. Progress?  
“Sounds like a nice place” Frisk said with an impressed tone “Might just have to go see it once we've found our cure here”  
For just a moment, a small smile flashed across the prince's face alongside a lot of happy remembrance in his eyes.  
“It is... it was a really nice place... until” And it was gone. Asriel raised his arm, gazing down on the deep black, shimmering circle that marred his otherwise pristine white fur.  
“This “curse”... it's a horrible thing” He sighed.  
“You can say that again” Frisk agreed.  
“Yes, but I daresay it might be even worse for us monsters”  
“Oh? How so?”  
“Well, it's... not so much the curse itself but more what it represents... maybe it's a bit of both”  
He looked up, gazing quietly for a few seconds at the stars that had begun to appear in the night sky. He drew in breath.

“Monsters are... very long-lived, practically immortal, something only very few other creatures in this world can boast off”  
Frisk nodded along. This, at least, they had heard about before. Monsters only aged so long as their parents were alive or if they had children themselves, something about a lifeforce passing between them.  
“We always strive to not take that gift for granted” Asriel continued, still gazing at the stars “We strive to preserve all other life that does not share our blessing and we have always prided ourselves on the compassion we are able to show other species and people”  
His gaze fell. There was an almost empty look on his face, and yet he still looked pained somehow. “The only way for a monster to die naturally is to have children. Amongst monsters, it is considered the bravest and selfless thing you can do, as you practically sign your own death sentence by doing so. You throw away your immortality but... my mom says you get an even greater gift in return”   
A quiet chuckle escaped him and Frisk couldn't quite tell if it was sincere or not.

“When a monster dies naturally, we often celebrate instead of mourn. We celebrate their selflessness, that they lived a long, happy life and ended it by giving more to the world... but this curse...”  
He once again looked at the mark on his arm “It takes all that away from us. Everything that makes us monsters” he hissed with an uncharacteristic hint of disgust “It takes it away and... subverts it. As flowers were are still immortal yet we can no longer appreciate the world for how it really is. It's a... It's a fate far, far worse than death, even if we can't even realize that once we've changed”

Frisk took in every word. They had never known an Ebottian monster personally prior to coming to Arnvolt but they were slowly gaining an appreciation for just how different they could be from humans.

“I suppose... we humans got it a bit easier then” They admitted.   
Asriel looked up at them with glistening eyes “What? Bu-but Chara said you lose everything”  
Frisk nodded “We do, and perhaps that is a mercy. Most hollows are almost indistinguishable from each other. There's nothing left of us after we hollow, none of the person we used to be... but it sounds like you're not so fortunate?”

Asriel looked away “Maybe you're right. It's... terrible to see how much people change for the worse once they can no longer feel or express love. This curse... it makes life, that which we revere so much and death... practically inconsequential”

Frisk could only quietly agree. They had gotten the prince to open up a bit more, but they could still do with a lighter subject.

“Well, once we find our cure, you won't have to see that ever again” Frisk said as confidently as they could “Speaking of which, what are you planning to do once we're finished here?” They asked lightheartedly.

Thankfully, the prince seemed to jump at the chance to think of something else and immediately he looked just a bit more relaxed.  
“Heh, you mean after my parents trust me enough to leave the castle after coming here without telling them?” he asked with a small chuckle.  
“Well... I think I'd like to go and see the world – With Chara, of course. She sometimes tells me stories about all the place's she's been. I think it would be cool to see them for myself”

Frisk gave a curious look “Your sister... she seems well-traveled for someone so young”

His ears dropped a bit and he looked worried “Yes, she... I suppose we had to tell you at some point but my sister, she-”  
A loud scream of terror tore trough Asriel's more placid words and to both Asriel's and Frisk's horror the scream was with a voice they both knew.

Asriel jumped to a nearby window in a ruined house they had been going trough. He gasped in fear and Frisk moved to join him.  
Outside on the streets, Chara was running for her life, close followed by a horde of hollows and other creatures. She seemed to be headed towards a large cloister with a set of heavy wooden doors of which one of them was slightly ajar, a good position to weather out a storm like that.

“Chara! No!” Asriel shouted and reared his staff back to shatter the window. Frisk reached out to restrain him, afraid that the noise might alert the horde to their position, but the prince obviously didn't care. Ignoring Frisk's protests he shattered the window pane with a large crash and immediately moved to jump out into the streets.

Damn it, Asriel! Stop!” Frisk called as they made to follow after him. Fortunately, the horde seemed too single-mindedly focused on Chara to pay either them or Asriel any attention and they continued their dogged pursuit of the rogue. Asriel made to follow as well but Frisk finally caught up to him, restraining him by the arm “Let go of me!” the prince protested as he vainly fought to escape Frisk's grasp “Let go! I have to save her!”  
“Quiet!” Frisk hissed back “If you want to save her at least be smart about it. Look” Asriel made to protest once again but was silenced by Frisk pointing at the fleeing figure of Chara. He saw as his sister barely made it to the church and closed the doors shut. The horde of hollows and creatures slammed into it in quick succession but the doors held. Chara must have found a way to bar it somehow.

The howling, growling and moaning of the horde grew now that they had cornered their prey and Frisk knew that if they waited much longer they would soon have half the city upon them “Wha-wha- what d-do we do!?” Asriel asked with a shaky voice and tears in his eyes. For perhaps the first time the monster's child-like disposition did not soften Frisk's heart in the slightest. They had noticed that the wall of the side of the church had crumbled outwards. They could probably easily sneak past the distracted horde and enter the church trough there...  
… But... Frisk found that they didn't want to. In fact, wouldn't it be better if Chara just died? Sure, she would come closer to hollowing but at least it would spare Frisk and Asriel the same fate. More than likely going to Chara's rescue would just see them all trapped within the church, awaiting an inevitable death.  
Yes... perhaps caution was the better part of valor here. They gently tightened their grip on Asriel's arm, intending to drag him away from the scene if need be. He must have immediately picked up on their intention.  
“Frisk!” He shouted, with a look of hurt betrayal “You can't just leave! You- w-we can't just let her die! Does her life really mean so little to you!?”

Frisk did their best to ignore him. Of course the pampered prince wouldn't understand. If he had lived their life, a life of combat, the life of a mercenary, he would know that choices such as these had to be made. It happened. Frisk had...  
…  
… Never actually done that before.  
Frisk had always strived to work alone, yet in the few instances they had worked with others they had never once taken the easy way out, never once left a brother- or sister-in-arms behind. That was the prerogative of those lesser bands of marauders and murderers for hire, those kinds of sellswords Frisk had always despised. When had they become like them? When had they become so callous?  
Perhaps the curse was already getting to them.

They turned around. Asriel still struggled to escape their grip. Switching from looking at them with anger and at the church with fearful urgency. The curse was claiming him as well, Frisk knew from the leaf they had found on him, but at least he hadn't lost sight of what was important...  
At least, not yet.

“Alright” Frisk sighed “Stick close, don't make a sound” They quietly ordered. Asriel gave an angry growl in response, the sound like a snarling wolf, but stopped once he realized their words “What?... you mean you'll-”   
“Yes, much against my better judgment we'll try and save your sister. Now, follow me”

Together, the pair of them crouched low, circumventing the horde to the side, headed for the large cluster of crumbled brickwork and masonry. A few hollows turned their heads towards them, sensing the afflicted yet brightly burning souls with each of them, but luckily, the noise and excitement coming from their fellow hollows were more than enough to hold their attention.

The 2 of them clambered up the makeshift pathway. Upon reaching the edge, Frisk's heart lurched. It wasn't that steep a drop, no, but going down meant they couldn't go back out. They would have to find another way. They turned to Asriel to inform him of their decision, only to see him jump down without hesitation.

They sighed in quiet frustration. Going down into the church was to practically lock themselves in a cage and every fiber of Frisk's being urged them to turn around and abandon Chara and Asriel...  
… But no, Frisk wouldn't do that, that was just the curse speaking and giving to the darkness it spoke meant hollowing even faster.  
It still irked their honed sense of survival, but Frisk nevertheless jumped down into the church.

Of all the buildings they had seen in Arnvolt thus far the church seemed more ruined than most. It still had some vestige of grand religious artistry it might once have had but it was all a jumbled mess now. Most of the roof was missing, revealing the darkening night sky above. Many of the stained glass windows were shattered and crumbled masonry laid everywhere.

Yet there was one point of light, one that warmed even Frisk's slowly hollowing soul to the core. The sight of Asriel and Chara embracing each other like only long lost family could. Frisk could almost not bear to ruin the moment but time was of the essence. Chara had managed to stack an impressive amount of pews in front of the church doors but the horde outside was hungry, ravenous, relentless and growing. It would only be a matter of time before they got in.

The sellsword walked close to the embracing siblings “Azzy, you idiot, you shouldn't have followed me” Chara said, looking very much like she was actually happy he did. She had tears in her eyes but whether they were out of fear for the horde they had fled from or happiness at seeing her brother Frisk couldn’t tell.  
“You dummy, I'll always be with you. As long as you're here I won't be afraid of anything!” Asriel declared, likewise looking like he was in a state of bliss despite the incessant, horrible moaning of the hollows gathered just outside the door.

“Hate to ruin the moment, but we're in a bit of a pickle here” Frisk interjected. Chara gently broke away from the hug, looking annoyed but to her credit without a snide remark. “What were you even doing out on the streets?” Frisk asked.  
“I... was actually trying to get back to you” she answered. Frisk might have imagined it but for a second the rogue actually looked a bit embarrassed.   
“And... well, I think I might have gone off track somewhere”  
“Oh, you “think?””   
“Ran into a group of those hollowed bastards. Tried to shake them but suddenly they just kept coming out of the woodworks”  
Frisk had half a mind to shout down a storm at the rogue for her stupidity. Every idiot knew that dragging a moaning band of hollows around an infested city was like tooling the feeding bell in a cage of daemons!  
“Please, don't be mad at her...” Asriel pleaded sheepishly from beside her.

Frisk let out a frustrated sigh. More than likely, Chara's foolishness was about to get them all killed but this was the situation they were in and thus this was what they had to take care of first “Alright, you 2, see if you can't find us a way out of here. I'll try and hold the door” Asriel and even Chara both looked happy to oblige and immediately they peeled off into the ruined recesses of the church. Which just left Frisk with their task.

They turned to the doors. A good amount of pews and rock had already been placed by Chara but it was not enough, not by a long shot.

* * *

 

From atop a nearby hill, a once-legend watched the spectacle with an interest he was almost relieved he could still feel.  
When first he had met the 3 newcomers he thought they would be just another band of young fools in search of glory and fame, fated to either die or hollow out here where there were practically nothing else but that. In truth, he still believed that would their ultimate fates but, damn, if they weren't putting on a show.

The horde of hollows had by now almost completely surrounded the church. It wouldn't be long before some of them managed to scrape enough rotted brain cells to try and climb up the ruined walls but for now, the siege was on. He watched the armored one, Frisk, if he remembered correctly, gesture to the 2 others, shortly after that they ran off, looking for something while the mercenary knight began reinforcing the barricade at the doors.

The whole scene reminded him of so many of his own adventures. Where he had beaten impossible odds, escape death more times than he could count, and seen such incredible sights! All alongside his... best friend?... cousin?

He moved a bony hand up to the scarf around his neck. He was almost sure it had belonged to... whoever he had shared all his adventures with and it had been someone he had been very close to... but he just couldn't remember his name or even how he looked.  
And, perhaps most frighteningly, he didn't really care.

He turned back to regard the struggling trio down at the church. He figured that he probably should help them, but... again, he just didn't care. He had made a name for himself trough his many escapades and the stories that had come off of them and many had seen him as a hero. He should help them... but he just didn't care, not one whit.

He had been there the day king and queen of Ebott had proudly announced that an heir had been born to them. He could still remember the week-long celebrations and his vow to his good friend, King Asgore, that should his son ever need it, this hero would lend every bit of assistance he could. He had been half-drunk when he had made that vow but still meant every word.

And here he was, watching that self-same heir in more than mortal danger, alongside 2 humans that had proved their determination and valor... and he didn't care.

He sighed, wanting to feel troubled by this inner development but finding he couldn't even do that. He felt... empty, inside. A strange sense of weightlessness appeared in his legs and slowly crept up, but he barely noticed it.

Instead, Sans the Explorer slowly craned his somewhat large head upwards, towards the setting sun. It truly was was a beautiful day outside. The birds weren't singing, the flowers weren't blooming. Soon, the curse would consume it all.

… And this whole world would go to hell.

* * *

 

Frisk braced themselves as hard against the doors as they could. They had propped everything that wasn't nailed down up against the wall but still they kept coming. With ever passing minute the hinges of the door buckled more and the wood creaked louder as the soul-starved hollows outside raged against the doors.

Frisk spared a look over their shoulder. Chara and Asriel had disappeared into the ruined labyrinth of the church. A Small pang of regret suddenly came over Frisk; perhaps sending the 2 of them off alone into the church had been a bit brash, they didn't know if something else was lurking in here, something more-

A shout of alarm; Chara, followed by a shriek of terror; Asriel.

And then a roar. A deep, guttural, undulating rhythm that shook the remaining walls.  
“Oh no...” Frisk whispered, recognizing the sound.

The rogue and the prince suddenly appeared, rounding a corner and ran towards Frisk. They shouted something but the angry moans and growls of the hollows just outside drowned out their words. It didn't matter much, though.

For just behind them appeared a sight that made even the determined knight pause.

A hellkite wyvern, roughly 4 meters tall, crawling on 2 powerfully muscled hind legs and wings with webbed hands. A small one, young, but nonetheless an unstoppable creature of wings, flame, and fury. Despite their size, most wyverns were actually carrion eaters, which was why places such as Arnvolt, filled to the brim with dead and decaying corpses, usually attracted a few. Fortunate, as it meant that they kept away from the more populated areas. There existed many stories about these creatures; stories about how they would snatch untended babies away in the dead of night or how the tip of their tails could be fashioned into swords of almost unrivaled power. However, of all of these, Frisk knew only 1 was true.

The nature of their fire breath.

And as they saw that a small but spreading flame had caught onto Asriel's cloak their heart sank, realizing the prince had just been doomed to one of the worst possible deaths imaginable.

Luckily, the wyvern suddenly spread its wings wide and took off, no doubt scared off by the sound of the hollows outside.

But the damage had been done.

Frisk only wished they had something they could plug their ears with, for what was about to happen... Lords of Lordran they should never have come here.

They tried calling to Chara and Asriel **“TAKE HIS CLOAK OFF!”** but their voice was like a raindrop against the waterfall that was the incessant moaning coming from outside.

 **"TAKE. HIS. CLOAK. OFF!!!”** They tried again as mightily as they could. All in vain.

By now, the pressure on the door was such that Frisk was the only one keeping them out. Letting go to warn Asriel and Chara would mean letting the hollows in.

All they could do was to watch in dreadful, horrible anticipation.

They saw it. Chara patting a burning patch on Asriel's cloak. Nothing happened. They both grew nervous now. Asriel took out a water canteen and poured its contents on the flames. Nothing happened. Instead, it started spreading rapidly.

Frisk screwed their eyes shut, not able to bear to witness what was about to happen. Wyvernfire. The fire spewed by hellkite wyverns and their kin. A strange curiosity, it warmed, burned, and looked just like any old regular fire, save for one, damning, horrible exception.

Wyvernfire could not be extinguished, not by water, not by magic, not by anything. Wyvernfire only stopped burning once there was nothing left to fuel the flame.

And in this case, this fuel was Asriel.

It began. At first, it was just mere shouts of fear as the fire hadn't burned trough his clothes yet. Chara shouted as well, probably urging her brother to calm down and stand still so she could pat at the rapidly spreading fire.

But then, it took off. Asriel's shouts suddenly turned to screams of pain as the fire burned his fur and seared the skin beneath.  
A horrible sound. Frisk had heard many a life end on the field of battle, many of them with pained grunts or whimpers but they had always been fortunate enough not to witness, or hear, people being burnt alive but they had heard stories.

They didn't do the reality justice. Not one bit.

Asriel was on the floor now, rolling, flailing and kicking. Screaming in utter agony as flames rose from his burning body. Chara tried helplessly to do whatever she could to save him, tearing at his clothes to get them off, but in the end all they managed to catch alight too.

“Please, stop...” they either whispered or shouted. Nothing happened. Another scream joined the damned cacophony of torment.

“Just die already...” A sickly sweet smell came upon them, like a piece of sugared meat on a spit. They almost gagged.

Frisk wasn't surprised to feel tears of absolute horror run down their cheek. The noise all around them was deafening. The incessant moaning, the soul-churning noise of 2 people burning alive. It was all they could do to not just abandon the door altogether, draw their sword and just end their suffering here and now...  
…  
In fact, they should probably do that. Better do it themselves and waste another second in this hell.

Frisk leaped from the door, drew their sword and ran for the burning pair. Almost immediately they heard the door behind them crash and splinter with deafening sound as the piled pews and masonry collapsed, but they paid it no heed.

Asriel had finally gone quiet. Nothing left but a smoldering, ashen pile of dust but Chara was still, cruely, very much alive, screaming in abject pain and agony, thrashing around on the floor.

Frisk only swung once with their blunt sword. A desperate, mad need to end Chara's pain and screaming lending them more strength than intended. Nevertheless, the result was the same. The blunt sword crashed into Chara's head with a loud crack, ending their suffering for good.

It was like a red-hot knife had been pulled out of Frisk's soul, the sense of relief was so immense. So immense that they completely forgot the hollows closing in on them.

A hollowed dregling arrived first, grabbing Frisk by the shoulder and biting down, shattering its rotten teeth in a spray of dark blood on the armor. Frisk pistoned their arm back, knocking the dregling away. But it was one amongst many and while being torn apart and eaten by a mob of hollows wasn't as bad a death as being burnt alive, it was still something Frisk really could do without.

Without a moment's hesitation, Frisk ran off, towards the nearest doorway they could see. They knew where it led, of course, there was no escaping the church, at least not alive. All Frisk could do was decide how it would end.

The doorway revealed a tight flight of stone stairs, leading up to what was probably once the clock tower of the church. The hollows followed to the best of their ability, their soulless rage and hunger for living flesh lending them great strength but not wit, and in their rush they crashed and tumbled into each other, clogging the stairway and slowing them down.

Frisk continued their sprint unabated. The air burned in their lungs and their legs were like lead but they wouldn't stop, not until this particular nightmare was over, not until they had woken up.

It was almost scary how easily they had made up their mind on going up the clock tower. Had they really grown accustomed to being denied death so quickly or had they just surrendered the worth of life so easily? Was this was Asriel had been talking about? That with the curse taking away the consequence of death life lost almost all of its meaning as well? Perhaps they could ask him.

Frisk reached the top of the tower but didn't stop there. Instead, they continued, without so much as a blink of an eye, a moment of hesitation or gasp of fear, right over the edge.

With nothing but almost 20 meters of open air below them.

Perhaps more than scary, it was almost funny. Funny how leaping off of a tower was suddenly a completely valid, logical and sound option, Frisk thought. Where was the need to raise their sword in defense of their own life? Where was the need the raise their shield in defense of others lives? It didn't matter, life itself didn't matter.  
…  
Lords of Lordran... They would have to find the cure soon...  
For there could be no hope in a place such as this...  
No hope at all...

Frisk reached the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest here, I actually felt a little bit bad writing this and even now I'm not even sure if it was worth it. But, it is what it is. Can't get any worse than this, right? Hehe...
> 
> Heh...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after that last ruckus, I think we ought to "cool" it down a bit. A lot of talking and calmness in this one, but not all of it good...

**The Kingdom of** Ebott

A small, tranquil mountain kingdom which exact location has long been speculated but never truly determined.

When signs of the curse first appeared in nearby lands, Ebott sent many healers out to help, hoping that their deep knowledge of the soul and ailments that could affect it would help save lives. Alas, their efforts were in vain, the curse of The Darksign proving completely unable to be cured. Not long after the healers return, the curse started to spread amongst Ebott itself.

Now, with each passing day, more and more are confined to imprisonment to ensure that the now-soulless monsters cause no harm to their once-loved ones. The survivors clutter together in their homes, hoping against hope that the nightmare will soon end and eagerly await news of the kingdom's missing, favored son and daughter.

 

Darkness everywhere but not a complete void. There was a sound; a rhythmic, familiar thumping. Their heartbeat? They must be alive then but every effort to open their eyes were in vain. Perhaps they were in limbo, the unnameable, unfathomable space between life and death, no longer untraveled since the coming of the curse. All they could do was wait, focusing their mind on counting the beats so that the enormity of the emptiness around them didn't drive them mad. “1...2...3...4...5”  
Something else, a gentle sensation on their - they supposed - cheek, like a chilly breeze. Sounds too, a slight, howling wind, far-off voices and... sobbing?  
They tried to open their eyes again, this time actually able to feel their eyelids struggle to open. A weak, flickering light slit trough, like a campfire. They focused on it, bending all of their determination to just hold the light in their mind's eye and not let it slip away. Bright, more clear.

Suddenly, as if realizing it for the first time in their life, they felt their lungs and the lack of breath within them. They gasped loudly, sucking in a great intake of precious air. At once, their eyes flew open, gazing up into the night sky of the cursed city of Arnvolt.

Frisk had been reborn once again.

* * *

 

Coughing and wheezing, Frisk sat up, their lungs burning as if they had been held underwater for far too long. They were back at Emberlight Shrine, safe, but the sensation of utter horror and pain they had felt just a few... minutes? Hours? Ago, was still fresh in their mind.  
They had taken their own life, choosing the lesser evil of suicide by falling rather than being torn apart by the ravening hollows. It had been a quick death.

Quick, but not instant.

They shivered, remembering the few seconds of unnameable pain as they had impacted on the hard, stony ground, their leg bones fracturing and shooting up into their body, shredding their innards to mincemeat. Blissful death had come soon after, but for just a few agonizing moments, all their world had been an intense pain as they died from internal bleeding and shock.

They looked up. The bonfire still burned, giving off a warm, gentle heat, the only drop of comfort in a sea of terror and horror.  
No, not the only drop. Chara and Asriel were there, too. Sitting on the other side of the bonfire. But, as happy as Frisk were to see them, the state they were in came close to dashing all relief.

Chara sat up against a wall, with Asriel sleeping, resting his head in her lap. The once vigorous rogue looked all but defeated. Her skin seemed gaunt and gray, dark bags hung under her eyes which themselves had lost a great deal of their former sparkle, and she seemed almost emaciated, drained.

Asriel didn't fare much better. He was asleep, but not resting easily. From time to time, he would unconsciously whimper and pat a part of his body. Frisk had seen it before, and it tore at their darkening heart to see the prince suffer the same fate. The sensation of burning was so painful it was sometimes ingrained thoroughly into the mind, plaguing the unfortunate victims well into their dreams. It was clear that Asriel would no doubt be haunted by the memory of fire until the end of his days... if those would ever truly end.

Frisk inched closer to the bonfire, desperate for any kind of warmth in their dark state. They still had the “Soulsever” plans in their pouch, the supposed cure, and no doubt it would lift the spirits of the assembled group, but for now, they needed rest, the day had been... quite easily the worst one in Frisk's life so far.

“Perhaps... sans was right” It escaped from Chara, her voice as dry and cold as death itself.  
“What do you mean?” Frisk asked.  
“Perhaps... we should just head back. If this... If this is what we have to go trough to find the cure... then maybe it's too much...”

Frisk clenched their fists, fighting to not let the rogue's word tear down their last vestiges of hope. They reached for the plans, no doubt that would change their mind.

“It was my idea to come here, you know” Chara droned, looking down at the sleeping monster in her lap and running a hand trough his fur.  
“I... I thought that if I could find the cure, then maybe I could at least start to repay the debt I owe him and our...HIS, parents”  
“A debt?” Frisk ventured, holding the folder in their hand but intrigued by the rogue's sudden talkativeness.

“Yes, the greatest debt one can owe to another living being” She looked up at Frisk. Despite her downtrodden demeanor, an amused smirk crossed her face.  
“It's funny, when first we met, I was dead-set on just remaining purely professional with you. I'm sure you had your theories about me and Asriel, but at the time I was utterly convinced I would never have to tell you the truth... but now... heh, as I said, it's funny, but... I just don't feel like I care anymore”

Frisk gulped.

“So, if you'd still care to listen, I think I would like to tell you about how Asriel and I met. About how he saved me, and about...

… How I fell... and rose again.

* * *

 

“I don't remember much about where I was born or to whom. All I know is that my mother's first act of caring towards me was to gift me away to a local crimelord, as payment for a debt she had accrued due to a Milweed addiction. It was a... decent life, I suppose. I was taught the finer arts of thievery, stealth, and assassination, me being a child at the time meant I was rarely ever suspected of knowing such things and I was pretty often underestimated. But, after a while, I realized my benefactor just saw me as a tool, a source of income. I got away, I gained my freedom... but also an appreciation of just how enormous and dangerous the world truly is. I was completely alone, all I had ever learned about human interaction was how to deceive, lie and... kill.

Despite that, I managed quite well. I hid myself away in the darkest underbellies of distant cities, striking out whenever I needed food, supplies or gold. I was constantly a witness to, and perpetrator of, the lowest, heinous actions humans were capable of, and, as I had never really been taught or shown any kind of affection for another living being, I thrived. I killed people, stole from everyone I could, sold people and even... myself when I was most desperate. I didn't care one whit for anyone, they were all a means to an end, a way for me to get by.

Then, one day, I heard a rumor about a distant mountain kingdom, inhabited by strange creatures. It was said to be a rich, prosperous and peaceful land, which, to me, translated into “easy pickings”. Thus, I pressed the last of my coin into the palm of a coach driver who claimed to know how to get there. He didn't lie, though, that didn't matter much. When we arrived, I quickly turned and... slew him. I was out of coin and I knew now for a fact that he had some.

… I don't know if you've ever been to Ebott, Frisk, but when I first set foot in that place, I quickly realized the rumors weren't even close to doing the place justice. Large houses everywhere, strange creatures that nonetheless carried fat purses, and best of all, everyone was so damnable trusting! They didn't even bother to lock their doors come nightfall.

But, most promising of all, were the castle itself. A modest thing by human standards, but if there was one place I was sure would hold the key to a lifetime of luxury and wealth, it was in there.  
So, already the following night, I sneaked over the wall and into the castle grounds. The front gate was barred so I planned to enter somewhere trough the roof and then work my way down. It seemed just about the easiest job I'd ever done. The guards were all a bunch of lazy mutts and I easily evaded them. The king, I found out, harbored a great fondness for gardening and using a great vine-like plant, I was able to climb up on the roof.

And, that's where it all went wrong.

For all their supposed wealth, the royal family of Ebott didn't really spend much on castle maintenance. Hah, they still don't really.  
But, as I was saying, the roof suddenly collapsed beneath my feet. I fell, sure I was about to die, but, instead, I landed, harshly, in a bed of flowers, of all things.  
Now, I am no stranger to pain. Once, I suffered having a soul-spear impale me trough my shoulder when I tried to lift a few trinkets off of a Vinheim Dragon School coach, but that fall was without a doubt the most painful thing I have endured. My leg, shattered. My shoulder, dislocated. My head, swimming. I was in no shape to get up and make a clean escape. So I did the only thing I could do. I called for help.

I realized that in any other kingdom, breaking and entering royal grounds would be punishable by death. But, having heard of these monsters and their... amiable nature, I figured I would try my luck with the castle dungeon. Either that or I was in too much pain to care.

I called and I called. I waited in silence for just long enough for hope to dwindle, but then, peeking out from a corner, this little scamp came to my aid”

Chara looked down at the sleeping monster in her lap, affectionately running her hand trough his fur.

“Oh, you should have seen him back then. I thought I had died and gone to heaven... undeservedly. Shyly, sheepishly, he inched closer to me, nervously wringing his little paws. Then, with the most light, feathery voice I had ever heard, he asked me if I was ok.  
Now, my first incentive was to proclaim that I had never felt better, that my shattered legs and twisted arm were merely some Great Swamp yoga I had decided to practice in the middle of the night... Truth be told, if I had, I'm halfway sure he would have believed me, that innocent, naive fool.

But, I had more restraint than that. At first, I thought him merely the son of a castle servant. If I played my cards correctly, I might just be able to get out of there scot-free! I explained that I was a humble brick worker, injured when trying to repair the roof. The fact that I was looking every part the thieving scum I was and that it was the middle of the night didn't seem to face him. He immediately believed me. Declaring in the most adorable, faux-proudly way that “anyone injured while in service to the royal family was entitled to the greatest care affordable by them” I didn't think much of it at first, probably just him trying sound all court- and noble like.

Imagine my surprise, then, when he took me to those who would “care” for me, his parents and they were the flipping king and queen! It was like fate had dangled sweet escape in front of my face and then tossed it away in laughter!  
They did fuzz over me, though, the queen especially, feverishly asking how such a “poor” hah! Thing like me had come to such wounds. I answered as non-descriptive as I could, but these old bastards were not as naive as their little fur-ball of a son, who, by the way, spent every possible moment he could at my side, encouraging me to get better and rest. It was... a strange thing for me, you must understand.

I was afforded a guest room for the night. Their healing magic had done much to alleviate my pain but I was still in no condition to escape, something I'm sure the queen and king must have realized as they didn't bother to lock the door. As I laid there, my mind was racing, trying to comprehend what had- and what was going to happen. The queen had shot me enough nervous glances that I was sure she had deduced my less-than-noble intentions and I had seen the king discretely whisper something to some of his guards. And yet here I laid, in the most comfortable bed ever to grace my backside, cared for and healed by people who KNEW I had come to rob them. It went against everything I had ever seen or experienced in my life! It went against my every natural instinct! It was like going to bed well knowing there was a venomous viper in the room or a Forrosan burgomeister disbanding the local militia! Complete, utter madness!

It got even worse the next day. The first thing to enter my room was the savior prince himself, completely unguarded and unprotected, entering the den of a hungry lion, all smile and sunshine and carrying a dinner tray with some of the most delicious food this side of Catarina. He then... asked me... If I was feeling better, if I was ok. In my experience, the only ones who would ever ask me that were either assassins or night-prowlers looking for an easy damsel to plow. But, for the first time, I thought the question sincere.

His mother entered before I could answer and ushered him out. It was a breath of relief in more ways than one as, finally, some sort of reality broke trough this fog of sugar-sweet nonsense!  
She checked my condition, satisfied that I was making good progress towards full recovery... then... told me that a human coach driver had been found murdered this morning and asked if I knew anything about it.

Now, I don't know if it was something in her magic or the escapades of the day before but I was so out of it I actually admitted my crime on the spot. She only nodded. Then, she asked how old I was. I answered that I thought around 10 to 12. I wasn't sure, no one, not even myself had bothered to keep track, no point.

I was sure she was about to turn me out. At the most extreme she would see me nursed to full health before handing me over to the guard. I WANTED her to do what, I WANTED her to prove that I hadn't gone absolutely nutters and that the cruel, cold world I knew was the true one.

But... she didn't...

She leaned down and held me close. Weeping at the injustice of the life I had lived and promised that I would never have to go trough it again... If I wanted to.

And... I guess I did.

I honestly can't remember much of the following days. The royal family started visiting me more and more, bringing me food, well-wishes and, perhaps most treasured of all, love. But, none more than the little prince himself.

When I finally got well enough to get my dazed, wobbly butt out of bed he asked me if I wanted to play. Hehe, I was shocked, I remember. I thought 'how the heck did someone like him learn gambling and hazard?' but no, he meant actually playing, like children did, catch, make-believe and hide-and-seek, I was pretty good at that one. But, man, I didn't even know there were such a thing children playing.

And that's pretty much how it went. It got better, life, I mean. About a week in I actually smiled for the first time. Not the fake one you facade when someone tells a crude outhouse jest but a REAL smile, you know, the kind that tugs at the back of your cheek and makes you feel wobbly in your stomach?

I did actually consider escaping several times. I was free to go, I had become a common and mostly ignored sight to the palace guards. It would have been so simple- the door was right there, all I had to do was pick up my feet and run for it. My instincts told me to do so, my head advised that it was the “proper” course of action.  
But, my “heart”, I guess said differently. I knew I should try and escape but I didn't WANT to.

At first, I thought the answer was simple. Why should I escape? All my life I had tried to make it big, acquiring wealth off of the misery of others then spending it on cheap vices in a never-ending cycle of murder, theft, lying, killing, stealing, debauchery and... vileness.

But now, the cycle had been broken. I lived in a palace! I literally dined like a king every day and slept beneath covers so comfortable you would swear they had been woven by Gwynewere herself! And yet, I didn't pay it any mind. That life I used to live... it was like a pale, half-forgotten dream compared to what I had now. A friend, a brother, a family. They cared for me, and, as I later found out... I came to care for them. Not for money, not for trinkets nor gold. People. Actually living, breathing, loving, people.

It almost hurt, in fact, the injustice of it all. Why did all of this happen to me? I intended to rob them of all they were worth and this was my reward? There's a saying I once heard in an Astoran back-alley; “A favor owed is a weakness shown” I felt bad, knowing that there were nothing I could do to repay these people for saving me. That is... until a few months ago.

When The Darksign first appeared in Ebott, Mom and Dad did their best to shield us from the news. They did a good job at first, but soon the epidemic got out of hand. Every day someone new was drained of hope in their soul and transformed into a flower. I used to trick and entice the little prince into sneaking out and explore at night, you know, for when playing in the garden got a little dull. But, one day, after climbing out our shared bedroom window... we saw it. A royal guard, a mutt of some kind, enveloped by vines, dragged down and then... in his place, a strange sunflower with a face.

I honestly didn't think much of it at first. I had... unearthed my heart but still had trouble caring for anyone else than my new, immediate family. Asriel, though...  
The next day, he asked mom if he could visit the hollowed flowers in the castle dungeons because he wanted to help them. We weren't allowed, of course. Some things are beyond helping, mom said. It pained my brother, knowing he couldn't help... and thus, it pained me too. This family had been nothing but kind and gracious and yet fate saw fit to shovel dung in their faces! The whole kingdom was hollowing and what was to be Asriel's legacy as future king was crumbling away before it had even begun! Just a few weeks after the first signs of the curse... dad had stopped laughing like he so often did, mom didn't hug us as much as she used to, instead staring despondently out the castle windows, and Asriel... stopped smiling. This thrice-damned curse was like a shadow cloaking them all.

It was the perfect opportunity... for me to repay the debt I owed them. I consulted with the royal physician, asking that if there was anything I could do, I would, no matter the danger. She explained that all the kingdom's effort to find a cure had borne miserable failure... but there was a rumor...

In years past, a near-forgotten kingdom, Arnvolt, had dedicated immense resources and time to finding a cure and, some said, succeeded. But it had long ago fallen to darkness and no one who had entered had ever returned. Which suited me just fine. Giving my life to restore the happiness that had once been the Dreemurr's seemed to perfect way to repay them.

I began my expedition that night. Waiting for the loud rumble of dad's snores before sneaking out of bed, packing my things and setting out... but, little furball here would have none of it. Heh, I guess those big ears aren't just for show. He heard me, asked what I was doing. I told him of my plan, I could never lie to him, and of course he resisted. Urging me to stay, telling me that getting myself killed would only make everything worse... bah, as if.

I persisted, but so did he. In the end, he stated that if I wouldn't stay then neither would he. He would come along and help me. He was my elder brother, after all, and it was his duty to look after me, he said.

I was set to argue but by then, we had already bickered for so long that the sun was rising and mom and dad would soon wake up. We headed out, hiring a coach to take us to Astora... it never arrived and were it not for the... elusive nature of fate then neither would we...

As we rode, a horde of hollowed humans set upon us. Our meager escort was quickly overcome. They dragged Asriel, screaming, out the window and... tore him apart. I followed soon after, at once ashamed at having failed so soon and dragging my brother down with me and relieved at not having to live in such a world anymore.

But, both of these things proved to be for naught.

We both “awoke” in Astora, huddled beside one of those strange bonfires and with the accursed Darksign on our wrists. If there was any doubt about our commitment to our mission it was dashed there and then. We weren't just fighting to save the souls of those afflicted back in Ebott, we were fighting for our own now.  
All we now needed was transportation for the final stretch to Arnvolt and some cheap, expendable, no-questions-asked protection”

She looked up at Frisk, wearing a smirk that bore no ill-meaning or insult.

“Though, I'm glad we got you instead” She said. “Hah... I've worked with my fair share of brigands and sellswords before. When first we met I thought you were just like all the rest, only in it for the gold... but, I guess I was wrong about you”

Frisk couldn't help but flash a smile in return. It was said that shared hardships could either make or break the hardest bonds between people and they were glad to see that the former might be happening.

A sigh escaped Chara and she looked back down at the sleeping monster in her lap.  
“But... perhaps coming here really wasn't worth it” she said, dejected “I came here to save my family, my brother... but in the end I've just hurt him even more”

They saw her lip quiver ever so slightly and a telltale glint of water in the corner of her eye.

“Why can't I ever do anything right? Why can I only hurt, lie, kill and steal... No, I'll make this right. When Asriel wakes up... we'll leave and head home. Don't worry, Frisk, you'll get your payment. I just need to-”

Frisk rose to go and comfort the rogue but saw it was an unneeded gesture. Asriel's paw rose, ever so gently, to pull his sister into a hug. They had figured as much. The prince had stopped his mild snoring and dream-induced patting while Chara had been telling her tale.

“Don't say that” He whispered “Don't say that you can't do anything right. It's not true... you are the bravest, strongest, most courageous person I know”

Chara tried to lean away as if weakly struggling to get away from the embrace  
“N-no, Asriel, don't you get it? I can't save anyone, I'm not meant to save anyone”

“Chara...”  
“No! Damn it, can't you see!? All I've done was drag you down into the muck with me, Frisk too” She said, looking up at the Determined Knight with repentant eyes.  
“If I hadn't set out on this... idiotic charade of a rescue mission, we wouldn't have had to hire you and take you along. Maybe... you wouldn't have been cursed, then. Maybe... I wouldn't have damned you, too”

She broke. Face cast down, hidden out of sight but not saying a word. Her shoulders heaved and jumped as she silently cried to herself. Asriel tried to comfort her as best he could, his robes and fur being stained with her tears.

Frisk looked to the side, thinking the rogue's words over. Stories of sincere repentance were rare, and even rarer were those that succeeded. Chara might not know, but she wasn't the only one who had much they wanted to atone for. As things were now, Frisk's Asriel's and Chara's story could still go either way.

“Maybe you're right” Frisk spoke out loud, not looking at anything in particular “Maybe I wouldn't have been cursed if you had just stayed at home. Maybe none of you would either... but, you didn't. You learned from your new family's example, you wanted to help and save others. Even if you at first only wanted to do so to repay a debt, that was still a very noble, kind, and brave thing to do”

They reached behind them, grabbing the “soulsever” folder from before.

“And, it just might have paid off” they lifted the folder in front of them for all to see. Chara looked up at the item. Her face a mess of tangled hair and tiredness, that nevertheless seemed to light up ever so slightly.  
“Wha- what's that?” She asked.  
“The folder from the Court of Unity...” Asriel whispered.

“Indeed” Frisk replied with a smirk “This right here may just be the cure, or at least it might be able to tell us where it is”  
“Ha-have you r-r-read it?” Chara asked.  
“Well, no, but let's just say I have a very good hunch about this”

They put the folder down on the ground in front of them and opened it up. The front page was aging, yellowed paper that still bore fine, cursive lettering. Frisk read out loud.  
“Soulsever experimentation goal: To create, establish, synthesize or devise a means or cure to the soul-based affliction known as The Curse of the Darksign. This project is to take priority over all other initiatives. Success is mandatory.”

They turned the next few pages. Long, detailed project logs of failed attempts to find a cure followed. Alchemy, magic, sciences, and explorations to far-off lands had all been attempted to no avail.  
They reached the last page, feeling their heart lurch in brief despair as they saw that almost the entire page was smudged in ink, obscuring the words. Only the last few lines were visible.  
And as they read them, hope filled their soul.

“Conclusion: While the circumstances and consequences of the newly-forged Soulsever are less than ideal, the Council of Unity has nevertheless deemed it a success. Further testing will be required but at the moment, the Soulsever initiative can be classified as a more-than-partial success”

Frisk looked up at their companions, relishing the look of absolute relief and joy on Chara's and Asriel's faces. They returned to the last few lines.

“Final testing will be undertaken by the outsider magician, Gaster. While it is understood some members of the council still harbor suspicions towards the outside, his participation in the project's success cannot be understated. Well done, gentlemen. Even if this might not be exactly what we wanted, no one else will ever have to suffer hollowing ever again”

They looked up with a nervous smirk “Well, there we have it. There's a cure, now we just have to... wait, what's wrong?”

Both Asriel and Chara were staring at them with eyes full of disbelief as if they were looking at the lord of sunlight himself.  
“D-did you just say... Gaster?” Chara muttered.  
“Hmm? Uhh, yes, it says right here. A Gaster was involved with the project... What, you know him?”

“No way...” Asriel whispered “I thought... he was just a nursery rhyme... to scare small children”  
Frisk cocked their head to the side. Picking up on the gesture, Asriel sat up straight.

“Well, he... how was it... It goes like this, I think “Child, don't be out at night, else Gaster will come, and give you quite a fright!””

To his side, Chara nodded “I remember this one “Child, don't be dull, do your homework, else Gaster will come, and brew in your skull!””

Asriel chuckled in fond remembrance “Haha, I remember when mom used to tell me those. I got so scared”  
“Indeed you did, you big crybaby”  
“But... I don't get it. He's not real, right? Just some boogeyman meant to make children behave?”  
He looked at Frisk as he asked. All Frisk could offer up was a shrug. It was the first time they had ever heard the name, but then again, they had never been anywhere near Ebott... or nursery rhymes for that matter.

“Actually...” Chara suddenly started, nervously scratching the back of her head.  
“Ch-Chara?”  
“Well... I might be remembering wrong, but, I think I once heard the Royal Physician talk about her predecessor. He did some, and I quote “completely heinous, un-monstrous and sadistic procedures”... she called him Gaster”  
“Woah... why did you never tell me?”  
“Because I didn't want to scare you, you baby. Besides, he was just a jerk, not a boogeyman”  
“And it might not even be the same guy” Frisk cut in. “I can believe there's quite a few with that name”

“I guess...” Asriel relented “But, anyway, if this “Gaster-guy” really has the cure then we need to find him and ask him for it”  
“Or just take it, I'm DONE with this place” Chara said.

“That's the plan, then” Frisk agreed “But where to look? He could be anywhere and I don't exactly fancy combing this city over”  
“Well, he could be-”  
“Where all of this began” A sweet but sickeningly familiar voice interrupted.

The first time they had heard that voice Frisk, as well as Chara, had drawn their blades to meet this new unknown. Not this time. It was someone they knew and yet, now, it was a total stranger.

Sitting, or rather, sprouting from the top of a nearby mound of dirt was a sunflower bearing a face with a wide, familiar grin. Once, it was one of good-intentioned mischief but now it seemed almost... predatory. Something that wasn't lost on Frisk.

“Sans?” They asked.  
“Wha- NO!” Asriel protested, already looking close to tears.“Not you, Sans! You're a hero! You can't give up hope!”  
“'fraid i already have, princy” Sans the Flower replied “aww, but don't be so down 'bout it. my bro used to say i could stand to “lose a few bones”, now look at me”

Asriel's eyes were glistening and his lower lip was quivering. If their last encounter with sans hadn't shattered the image of the hero the prince had in his head, surely it must be now. Frisk's heart ached in sympathy, knowing that the furred monster's childhood hero was forever ruined for him. The skeleton's fate itself also weighed on them... but more than that, it kept them on guard. If Asriel's explanation had been true, then the flower would be nothing short of an emotionless killer.

“What do you want, sans?” Chara sneered, holding her brother close in comfort.  
“i'm glad you asked. y'know, i thought hollowing would suck but really, it's like a whole new world has been opened to me. i... feel more free than i ever have!”  
“B-but you c-ca-cant feel friendship or-or-or love ever again!” Asriel protested trough his sobs.  
“nope, can't even feel bad about it either. lucky me, huh? easy comes, easy goes”

“What do you want, sans?” Chara repeated, with thinly-veiled menace in her voice “Do you know where Gaster is?”  
“ah, questions that go hand in hand” sans the flower replied, bouncing on his stem in what could only be excitement.  
“what do i want? fun, it's the about the only left for me. do i know where gaster is? yup, pretty sure i do”  
Frisk narrowed their eyes in suspicion “And telling us where he is might be... “fun” to you?”  
“sure will, frisky. y'see, ol' gaster is hiding in that big sinkhole in the center of the city. remember when i showed you?”  
All 3 replied with a short nod. The danger of the task ahead of them quickly becoming apparent.  
“to get to him, you'll just have to get trough a whole mob'o lost, angry and confused souls. easy-peasy, right? oh, i almost can't wait to watch you try!”  
“You're sick...” Chara hissed back at the flower.  
“well, so are you, missy, but unless you get your second opinion from doctor gaster soon, you're gonna be even worse off”

“Alright, enough!” Frisk cut in. “I don't know if you're lying, sans the explorer, but if you are, we'll-”  
“what, kill me?” sans interrupted “hah, that's a laugh. like you, i can't ever truly die. i got an eternity ahead of me to do whatever I want! starting with you!”

No answer was forthcoming from the assembled party. Frisk and Chara shared looks of concern while Asriel still gazed at the once-hero with deep pain in his eyes.

“well, you kids think it trough. i'll be waiting for ya. toddles!”

With a twist, the flower disappeared into the ground, leaving only a small patch of disturbed earth behind.

Silence fell upon the small shrine. Today, the world had lost one of it's most controversial heroes and no one would probably ever know. More importantly, The Determined Knight, The Courageous Rogue and The Valiant Prince of Monsters had never been so close to the cure... and yet, it was still so far.

“So, final stretch?” Chara asked out loud, face cast down.  
“Looks like it” Frisk answered, similarly quiet.  
“We can do. I know we can!” Asriel affirmed.

“Well, it's not like we can ever truly die, right?” Chara said.  
“No, but sans said those... “shades” back there spread their misery and agony trough touch... and I won't lie, I'm not sure I can take much more of that... Bah! Of course, the cure had to be in the dangerous most place, in the most dangerous city, in the most dangerous realm!” Frisk snarled, pounding an angry fist into the ground.

“Doesn't bother me much” Chara said with a shrug “I never really expected to return from this trip anyway”  
“Chara...” Asriel said.  
“Sorry Asriel, I didn't mean to-”  
Yes, you did!” Asriel suddenly burst “I get it, you want to repay us for taking you in and you think running off and getting yourself killed is the way to do it, but it's not!” The prince was holding his sister by the shoulders, voice strong but not unkind.  
“What you don't get is that you have nothing to repay us for! And even if you don't believe that you repaid us a hundred times over every day, just by being you!”

Chara moved a hand to join the prince's on her shoulder. Surprise evident on her face. “Mom and dad love you so much! A-and so do I! More than anyone else! I won't let you hollow Chara, I won't let you go! I refuse! A-an-and even if we do hollow we'll do it together, I swear!”

Chara's gaze was completely locked on the prince's eyes; a fiery red meeting a bright green. Quietly, a small smile formed on her lips, small, but one of immense inner satisfaction.  
“Hah... are you crying?” she asked.  
“Of course I am... you idiot” Asriel replied, likewise bearing a smile of deep love.

Across from them, Frisk sat against the wall, arms crossed and thoroughly enjoying the scene in front of them; the 2 royal siblings in a deep embrace, wetness on both their faces, evidence that even though The Darksign had drained them both, their love for each other was like a boundless well that kept them going.

Even still, Frisk wondered if it would be enough. Not even the most passionate, loving and emotional of persons could hold off The Darksign forever, and more than likely, this, the final leg of their journey to Arnvolt, would be the toughest yet. It would be the test that would either pave the way for ridding the world of the curse forever or see them hollow, fit for nothing more than joining the numberless, ravening horde of hollows that had already claimed so many.

This was it, they were nearing the end. Frisk knew that more than likely, this final run would see them drained of their last vestige of hope and feelings. Still, they were not ready to give up, not by a long shot.

Knowing there was a possibility to save the world from the curse, and that Chara and Asriel stood by them filled them with DETERMINATION!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end, friends. Our adventurers goal is in sight and nothing can stop them... but much and many will try.


	7. The Abyssal Pit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, almost a month and it's not even that long... my apologies, but! We are nearing the end... and I think you'll like it.
> 
> Hehehehe....heh

 

**The Abyssal Pit**

A massive sinkhole located in the very center of Arnvolt. Whatever the cause if its formation, it is clear that it stands as the source of the darkness that has overtaken the City.

Arnvolt once stood as the world's last, best hope of finally defeating the Abyss, but all was lost when this festering, corrupt heart one day appeared in the city, sprouting dark and evil trough every nook and cranny in the city.

Arnvolt's glory days are long gone, but amidst the vast sea of darkness, there is still a glimmer of hope. A final remedy to the curse found where it all begun. Retrieving it would no doubt mean death for anyone who tried, but what would redemption mean without resistance? What would valor mean without danger? And what would duty mean without an end?

 

“By the gods...” Chara breathed “How the hell are we ever going to come trough that?”  
Beside her, Frisk nodded their agreement. No matter what happened, this would be the end of their journey.

In front of them was the massive sinkhole from which the evil that had taken Arnvolt had sprouted... and from where it continued to seep. Strange creatures, none of them had seen before, as well as the lost souls sans had dubbed “humanities” stalked their way out of the epicenter in unending numbers.

What had once been the shops and buildings of the city's market district was still there, crumbling, half-buried, lining the descending sides of the pit. Frisk guess that from their position, there were a good 4 kilometers to the other side of the massive sinkhole.

For now, they had taken refuge inside a ruined granary. The tall building allowed a good view of this, their final task.   
And just barely view of what laid in the center.

It was like... a “pool” of utter blackness, out which the creatures emerged. Frisk imagined they might be seeing things but from what they could see, it looked like some kind of makeshift gate had been set into the earth right beside it. That had to be their goal. The Soulsever, whatever it was, HAD to be beyond those gates.

“So” Chara began “Any ideas?”   
Nobody answered. Frisk looked over the abyssal pit again and again, trying to find some easy way in, yet nothing came to mind.  
“This... might sound stupid but couldn't we just leg it?” Asriel offered.  
Frisk scrunched their face as they thought it over. The so-called “humanities” didn't seem that fast; they could definitely outrun them but the strange abyssal creatures?  
“Maybe...” Frisk answered. “Perhaps if we ran from cover to cover, we might-”  
“BOOOH!” a sickeningly shrill voice called. Asriel jumped with a scared bleat.  
“Sans...” Chara hissed with contempt as she turned to the voice, pulling the now shaking monster close in comfort.

“heh, well, looks like i got your goat” the hero turned flower taunted, bouncing on his stem. He had seemingly sprouted from a hole in the floorboards.  
“i was honestly worried you were gonna chicken out of this. glad you came!”   
“What do you want, weed?” Frisk sneered back.   
“as i said before; fun! and just look at the spectacle you're about to provide me” He answered, waving a leaf at the hellish landscape.  
“seein' the light leave someone's eyes is so much more satisfyin' than just watchin' them die, dont'cha think?”  
“Y-y-you're sick!” Asriel whimpered in protest from behind Chara.  
The rogue herself took a step forward, unsheathing her knife.   
“You'd better clear off before I go weed-whacking” she threatened.  
“bahahaha, have you forgotten already? i can't die for good!”  
“Maybe not, but if I cut you down right now, you would miss your “show”” Chara hissed.

The flower stopped his taunting bouncing and his grin dropped a little.  
“alright, fine, i'll go” he said, retracting down the hole he had sprouted from.  
“but i'll be watchin' you all. i know you won't disappoint, see ya!” he finished with a cold laugh.

* * *

 

“So, wait until night and then just make a run for it?” Asriel asked his 2 compatriots, eating a spoonful out of his bowl of tem flakes. “Sounds... risky”  
“It is” Frisk concurred, taking a sip out of a bottle of Siegbrau, a brand of high-grade firewater from Catarina, something they used whenever they needed a bit of liquid courage, like now. “But it's our only choice. We can't fight all of those things, but we might be able to sneak past them in the dark”  
“Even with all the stuff I have done, I can't say I have ever tried anything like sneaking into a demon-spewing cesspit” Chara said, taking a bite of her a spider doughnut “Heh, almost sounds fun”

The group had gathered on the lower floor of the granary, out of sight of the creatures outside, and sharing in some of the last of their foodstuffs. Frisk had been a bit disconcerted and awed at once at the strange food their companions had brought with them from Ebott. Things made from spiders and other stuff they claimed had magical healing properties. They had offered to share, but Frisk had declined, opting for their own tried-and-true rations.

Outside, the sun was slowly setting, turning they gray sky into a black sea. Frisk would be lying if they said they weren't just a little bit tense. Failure here would mean a fate worse than death, and quite possibly cost the whole world its only chance of being saved from the curse.

“I know we can do this” Asriel declared, perhaps sensing the tense atmosphere, not as forcefully as he used to.  
“Heh, you keep saying that” Chara answered with a smile.  
“Well, you know, mom and dad always said tha-”  
“Upholding hope is our duty, I know” Chara finished “But I think we'll need more than just hope for this one, I mean, what if the gate down there is locked?”  
“Don't worry about that; I have the key right here” Frisk answered, pulling a firebomb out of their bag.  
“That thing will draw every nasty in the city towards us” Chara said with concern.  
“Then let's hope we won't need it”   
“Hmm, that reminds me, how are we going to get out of there?”  
“Huh?”  
“The pit. Even if we do get trough the gate, even if we do find this “Soulsever”, we'll still have to get it out of there”  
“... I know this probably isn't what you want to hear but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it”  
“Frisk!”  
“Well, I don't know! We'll just try the same trick we used to get in or something”  
“...”

“I, uhhh, I could try a spell I have” Asriel meekly interjected.  
“What!?” Chara barked at him, obviously frustrated.  
“Ahh! It's, uhh... do you- do you remember that one time we snuck into the castle larder?”  
“Of course, had a hell of a time convincing you to do so. For crying out loud, Asriel, what kid wouldn't want to go on a snack raid on their own!?”  
“Because it was stealing!... anyway, do you remember the spell I used so we could sneak past the guards?”  
“Oh, yes, I remember. The one that muffled one's footsteps? What was the name... shush?”  
“Hush”  
“Right, hush”  
“Well, maybe we could use that to help us get in and out? What do you think Frisk?”

The knight scowled in response. In truth, they had never been a fan of magic but, admittedly, Asriel's little tricks had proven useful thus far.   
“As long as it does as advertised, I suppose it might help” they admitted.   
“It does!” Asriel confirmed with a vigorous nod.  
“I can vouch for it” Chara chimed in.  
“Haha, alright, alright, I believe you” Frisk conceded, raising their hands.

A few moments of relaxed peace descended, the tension from before not entirely gone but at least softened.   
Across from Frisk, Chara quietly narrowed her eyes at something near their hip.  
“There' something I've been meaning to ask” she begun, raising her hand to point at Frisk's sword.  
“Your sword... it's blunt” she stated,  
“Yup, it is”   
“...”  
“...”  
“Frisk, come on”  
“Hehe, alright, sorry, just teasing you” Frisk said, drawing their sword from the scabbard.  
Asriel and Chara leaned close to get a good look at it. They knowledge about weapons, in general, was limited, but even they could see the signs of good, solid craftsmanship in the blade. The only detriment being that it was completely dull, more a mace than a slashing weapon.

“The truth is... is that I keep it dull because it makes it harder to kill someone with it... accidentally, at least”  
Across from them, Chara raised a doubtful eyebrow.  
“You keep it dull... to make it harder to kill?” She asked.  
“That's what I said”  
“But aren't you a mercenary? Isn't killing what you're paid to do?”  
“Quite often, yes”  
“... Have you ever killed anyone?”

Frisk gave off a somewhat sad smirk. They looked up at Chara with equal parts mirth, equal part apologetic look.  
“Well... there was this one time in a church, where I was surrounded by hollows and my companions were both on fire”  
“Oh... right” Chara breathed, raising a hand to nudge a spot on their forehead.  
“But, to answer your question, yes, I have killed. Quite a lot, actually, but that doesn't mean I like doing it”  
“Last resort?” Chara challenged.  
“Always. Taking a life is never a good thing... but sometimes it's the only way”

Chara glanced away with a thoughtful look, no doubt contemplating their words while Asriel appreciated them with a proud look. They well remembered the prince's little speech about how monsters valued the preservation of life above everything else.   
…  
If that even meant anything these days. When cursed, all life was, in a way, preserved, like a piece of meat preserved in an imperfect vacuum until it rotted. They shook in slight disgust as the thought.  
But perhaps that wouldn't matter. If they failed and hollowed, would they be too far gone to even recognize and lament their fate? Truth be told, in a horrible way, hollows could be surprisingly determined and energetic when they wanted to, such as when they smelled souls and flesh to eat. They wondered how they felt in those moments... and if they even felt anything at all.  
A wry smile appeared on Frisk's lips.

If they were lucky, they would never find out.

* * *

 

When night finally fell, the group rose, wordlessly making their way towards the exit of the granary hideout. It was a silent, unanimous decision; they all they knew that if waited too long to gather their courage, more than likely it would go the other way around.

They assembled outside. In the dark, most of the pit was hidden from them, unfortunately, the sounds weren't; inhuman growls, beastly howls, and demonic roars stemmed from the pit. Frisk wasn't too proud to deny the fact that they were terrified. In the darkness, they would hopefully be harder for the creatures to spot them... but they would also have a hard time seeing anything until they were right on top of it.

“This is it” Frisk whispered to the others “If you want to turn back, now's your last chance”  
“I would like nothing more” Chara answered “But it's what we got to do”  
“We can do this” Asriel said, repeating his usual mantra, trying to encourage himself just as much as the others.  
He raised his sorcery staff high, holding it in place for a few seconds, before spinning it, silently uttering a few arcane words as he did. A bluish mist began seeping out of it, and with a wave, the monster sent it out to himself, Frisk and Chara. The strange miasma coalesced around their feet.

**Hush**

Sorcery developed by a certain surreptitious  
sorcerer at Vinheim Dragon School.  
Masks all noises of caster.

  
Effectively, Vinheim is controlled by the   
Dragon School, and it is no wonder that the   
town has its share of dark secrets.

  
While the monsters of Ebott have long ago   
translated this spell, it is not on the   
official Hotland Academy curriculum,   
but, as they say, mischief maketh the means

  
Frisk took a few jumps. Their armors rustled, the metal creaking and the joints making all kinds of noise.  
Or, at least, it should, but as they landed, not a single sounds escaped them. Even their breathing seemed almost nonexistent.  
“Huh, that's pretty neat” Frisk said. “As I said before; top of his class” Chara boasted and clasped a hand on the monster's shoulder, who in turn blushed under the praise.  
“Aww, it's- it's nothing” he said, looking away in embarrassment.  
“Still, this might just make all the difference” Frisk breathed, turning to face the pit before them”  
Well... are you ready?” they asked.  
“No” both of them answered in complete unison.  
“Me neither...” Frisk finished. They took a deep breath, trying to shut out the hellish sounds from the pit, solely focused on the task they were about to undertake.

“Alright... let's go”

* * *

 

 

  
To the middle of the sinkhole, Frisk had wagered there laid about 2 kilometers. Nothing much, easily cleared with a brisk walk and 20 minutes.

But crawling, hiding and sneaking trough 2 kilometers? That was a whole other story.

The group went from cover to cover as they stealthily made their way. At each stop, they tried to chart the clearest and fastest route to the next spot trough the darkness. In the dark, the epicenter was invisible, but they knew that as long as they went downward, they were on the right track.

The first stop was an uninhabited half of a 2 story building, only a stone throw away from the next; a collapsed wall. Here they were forced to spring into action as a pair of hollows sat, back to the rubble, groaning to themselves. Chara and Frisk had snuck up to them without a sound, the former quickly sending her knife trough the eye socket of one of the wretches, and the latter chopping down with their blunt sword, eliciting a bone-crunching crack that spelled death for the hollow, but also a hiss from Chara; a reprimand for the sound they had made.

Nevertheless satisfied that they had not been detected, the 2 humans crouched down, scanning the area as best they could. Asriel moved up to join them from behind.  
“So far, so good” Chara whispered “Only, what, 10 more hours of this until we're halfway?”  
“Slow and steady wins the race” Frisk cautioned.  
“If I take it much more easy, I'm going to stop breathing”  
“Good, you'll make less sound that way”  
“Bah, says the rustbucket!”  
“Guys, what about over there?” Asriel interrupted, pointing a claw a what looked like a toppled-over tower.  
Frisk looked over the place. Seemed clear but it was hard to tell in the dark. It was close but not enough to get a good view. They would have to pass close by a brutish creature that looked like a mix between a hippo and an ogre, but Asriel's Hush spell, as well as the fact that the creature was completely enraptured looking over the content of its nose meant that it wouldn't be a problem.

“Looks good” Frisk said “on 3. 1...2...-”  
“Nooooooooooo...”  
Frisk immediately threw themselves at Chara to silence her sudden, foolish outburst, only to have her hand clasp around their mouth in return. Their eyes met in a confused stare. Was she trying to do the same thing? But if she didn't say that, then...  
“Nooooooooooo...”

Frisk and Chara turned to look behind them, their blood running cold at the sight. A pair of so-called humanities were closing in on them. Strange, human-adult sized swirls of black mist surrounded by white light. One of them kept repeating its denial while other emitted a constant, never-ending death gurgle, like someone choking on their own blood forever.

“Just go, just go!” Frisk ordered. As one, the 3 adventurers sprang from cover, rushing as swiftly but carefully as they could towards they crumbled tower. The hippo-beast paid them no heed, and as they neared their destination, they found no sight of any creatures hiding near it, at least from this side.

Chara arrived first, immediately dashing to a corner to check the other side “I don't see anything” She breathed in between labored breaths. Frisk sat down beside her but likewise couldn't see anything. A hand clasped on their shoulder, probably Asriel arriving as well.

“Good lords, those humanities...” Frisk hissed.  
“I know, gives me the creeps” Chara said with a shudder.  
“I wish there was something we could do for them...” Asriel spoke with a hint of sadness. He moved past Frisk, crouching down beside Chara.  
“So, next stop... that half-sunken statue over there?” Chara pointed at what looked like a submerged stone angle. Not a terribly good spot as it wasn't that wide, but the way to it looked clear, and Frisk only saw movement of what looked like single hollow near it. No problem if they could get a drop on it.

“Sounds like a plan” Frisk nodded. Chara and Asriel threw one last cautionary look around before making their way. Frisk gently rolled their shoulder to throw Asriel's paw off so they could move to join them...  
… but... he was ahead of them.

Cold, immense terror flooded Frisk. They moved a hand down to the hilt of their sword... then craned their neck to look behind them.

The hand was there, smoky, wispy and black, connected to an arm that in turn... belonged to a humanity.  
From a distance, the strange sprites had looked like nothing more than black and white clouds of smoke, but up close they were a world more horrifying.

It was... a woman, they guessed, its smoky and swirly body, as well as the darkness of the night, made it hard to tell. Her eyes were gone, nothing but black pits. Her mouth was wide open and the lips trembled as if she was screaming a soundless scream.

On its own, it might not have scared Frisk that much, but Sans's hints at their nature and what they could do, as well as the implication of the hand it had clasped on their shoulder, had Frisk frozen in terror.  
The shadowy thing slowly began to move its other hand towards Frisk face. They began hearing distant screaming, far-away and ethereal... perhaps it was in their own head? It was the sound of pain and horror in equal measure, but also unbridled rage, a desire to spread her suffering. Soon, Frisk would join in.

“Frisk! Get down!”  
A blue, glowing spear suddenly sailed past Frisk, connecting with the humanity and knocking it away. They felt hands grabbing them roughly, Chara, and pulling them away.  
Still stunned, but barely regaining their senses, Frisk stumbled after her. The terror from seconds ago still rendering their mind numb.

A loud, ethereal scream came from behind them. The sound of pent-up rage and the frustration of being denied prey. Frisk closed their eyes, hoping against hope it was just their imagination.  
But no. The humanity had spotted them and now, half the city knew where they were.

Without a word, the 3 of them began the most desperate, fear-fueled run of their life. From every nook and cranny, from piles of shattered masonry and crumbled buildings, even rising from the earth itself, scores of horrific beast and creatures came after them.

Frisk's heavy armor made them the slowest of the trio, but adrenaline and their flight for survival made up for it.   
A clawed hand reached out from the mud to grasp at them, but Frisk jumped over. A roaring, armored boar-like creature stampeded towards Chara. The rogue neatly vaulted over it as it reached her, deftly slicing her knife across its neck as she did. A half-woman, half-crow thing swooped down at the prince, but the monster sent a glowing, blinding orb of light at it, and it stopped in its tracks with a choked screech.

They ran for what felt to Frisk like hours. All manners of horrors and beast coming at them from every angle. They cheated and avoided death more times than any of them cared to count. The sounds all around like drawn from the deepest pits of hell and the darkness incessantly hiding the bottom of the pit. Frisk had almost given up hope.

“THERE!” Asriel suddenly shouted from somewhere in front of them. He followed up by throwing another glowing sphere at his target. It lit up, revealing the blackish lake and the steel gate.

A gate that was open!

“KEEP GOING! WE'RE ALMOST THERE!” Chara shouted somewhere in the dark. Just as she did, a loud metallic creak came from the gate. It began rising, closing!  
Frisk redoubled their efforts, their lungs already burning. They felt a hot breath on their neck and instinctively ducked low. A swoosh of air came above them, something large aimed at their head that had barely missed.

They looked up. Asriel had reached the gate already. He waved his staff high in the air, the staff itself glowing at the tip, like a lighthouse urging Frisk to safe harbor.

The gate was almost closed completely now! If just-  
A sense of premonition came over them. Frisk turned around, holding their shield up. Immediately, a gnarled fist slammed into them, hard enough to send them flying. Frisk was too scared to scream. They sailed trough darkness so deep they couldn't even see the ground.  
But it came soon enough. Frisk landed hard, sliding a few meters trough slick mud, but quickly recovering. As they looked, they found they had, at least, been fortunate enough to fly in the right direction.

The gate was just a few meters in front of them. They saw Chara dive into the darkness beyond. Asriel was gone as well, hopefully inside.

They sprang to their feet, already feeling whatever had knocked them over close in from behind. Their vision narrowed solely on the gate, all sound seemed to deaden. All the world to Frisk was the effort of placing on foot in front of the other as quickly as possible.

They jumped, arms outstretched to latch onto the edge of the gate. With the last of their strength and with lungs fit to burst, Frisk threw themselves inside.

A loud thump. The gate closed behind them. They could hear fearful, heavy breathing around them; Chara and Asriel. Thank the lords they had made it!

But where were they now? They needed to-

“Well, well, well, look what The Father's children dragged in!” An eerily cheerful voice sounded in the darkness.  
“Ah! But where are my manners! It's so rare I get guests down here, hihihi! Heya, folks! My name is Gaster!”


	8. The Cycle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our friends have found and entered the lair of evil from which Arnvolt's destruction came from. Inside; the goal of their quest: The Soulsever!
> 
> But this is no fairy tale, and more than once brave heroes have perished in despair at their journeys ultimate culmination.

  
**The Cycle**

The fire is fading, the land grows cold and life turns still. Soon, nothing but dark will remain.

But this is not an end so much as it is a beginning, for this has happened before. The flames die, only for the embers to flare up and ignite a new age. Such has it been for eons, an endless cycle of life, suffering and then death.

Now, for the first time in history, the cycle stands to be broken. A trio of adventurers stands at the precipice of changing the fate of the world... but fate is not easily swayed, and even if done, there is no telling what will happen.

“I do so apologize for the rambunctious children. They do tend to get overexcited when we receive guests” the self-proclaimed Gaster welcomed.  
Frisk rose to their feet cautiously, looking the strange shape over. As far as boogeymen went, Gaster fit the bill rather well. Tall, lanky, with a dark cloak hanging from his shoulders. His head and hands were visible, having a white, bony texture, almost like sans had before his fall. A scar crossed over his one eye and an eerily cheerful smile beamed from his face. Eerie, because it struck the perfect balance between predatory and genuine. Frisk wasn't surprised to find they had subconsciously put their hand on their sword's hilt.

“Although, I suppose the same could be said for me! It has been so long since I have seen anyone able to articulate anything more than a drool! Hihihi! Ah, but worry not, unlike The Father's children I will restrain myself from pouncing on you and gobbling you up! Haha!... unless you want me to, of course.

“Uh, n-no thanks” Frisk answered, a bit flustered. There was a shakiness to Gaster's shrill voice that told them that the monster was quite clearly unhinged, perhaps not really that surprising. They heard a weak whimper of fear behind them, most likely Asriel.

“If you would, please follow me, it's dark in here and I want to get a good look at my new friends!” Gaster chirped, turning around and motioning to follow.  
Frisk stood their ground, staring in wide-eyed confusion. Less than 1 minutes ago, they had been running for their life, with hell almost literally nipping at their heels. Now this...

Chara marched up beside them, letting out a pent up breath. “Well I'll be damned... never figured the stories to be true” She said.  
“He is... quite the character” Frisk answered.  
“And, honestly? He's just like the stories described him; jovial, but with a hint of mad danger.  
“I see... well, I suppose we'd better follow him before changes his mind about us being mere house guests.  
“Yes, c'mon Asriel... hey, where are you?” Chara finished, turning around when they didn't hear an answer.  
Asriel was huddled in a corner, shaking and clutching his knees to his chest.  
“A-Asriel? What's wrong?”  
“I-I-I'm n-n-ot going in th-there with him!” he whimpered.  
“Oh come on, Asriel! You know how stories always exaggerate, I bet he's not half as bad as they make him out to be”  
“NO! You've read the stories too! He's going to eat us!”  
“He's not going to-”  
“I don't want you to get eaten, Chara!... Please, can we just- can't we just leave?”  
“Asriel... if he really has The Soulsever... we have to at least find out”  
“...”  
“And besides, who'd want to eat a furball like you? You're all hairy and dusty!”  
“Chara...”  
“Don't worry brother, we'll protect you, won't we Frisk?”  
“Till my not-really-dying breath” Frisk affirmed.

Asriel wiped his face with his sleeve. Chara offered her hand and pulled the monster to his feet.  
“Now, how about we go do what we came here to do, huh?” She offered.  
“Y-yeah... lets”

* * *

 

Much as what could be expected of Gaster's underground lair, the corridor leading into the main room was grimy, earthy and muddy. Here and there wooden beams had been placed in the ground to keep it all from collapsing. Ramshackle, but sufficient.

Much like the main laboratory, they entered into at the end of the hallway. Easily the length and width of a royal ballroom, Frisk took a moment to wonder just how the royal alchemist-turned-bogeyman-turned-eccentric madman had made all of it. Wooden tables lined with beakers and alchemical bottles cluttered against one side of the wall, and a theater of surgical tables, all stained with dark-red marks, stood up against the other.

The nature of the room was, in a word; chaotic. Most of the furniture was half-sunk into the mud and not a single piece of equipment measured up to scientific standards of hygiene. In the middle of the room, this underground madhouses' inhabitant was feverishly rummaging trough a desk, setting up a row of glasses.  
“Ah, there you are!” he beamed as they came in “I almost feared you had gotten lost in the one-way corridor leading to here, hihihi!... It, uh, happens to me more often than I'm proud to admit, so don't feel too ashamed!” He slammed a dirty bottle filled with a dark, pungent liquid. Even from so far away, Frisk grimaced at the smell. Like rotten eggs balsamated in chaos-eater dung.  
“Now, how about a good, strong drink to oil up the gears of friendship, eh? I'm not vintner, but I do make a mean brand of firewater if I do say so myself, hehehe!” he began pouring into the 4 glasses he had arrayed. The “firewater” seemed entirely too creamy, even from a distance and Frisk found their gall rising at the “blub” sound every time something clumpy landed in the glass with a splash.

The 3 adventurers shared a nervous look amongst themselves. There was no doubt that Gaster was insane, and more than likely dangerous, but if worse came to worst they were still 3 against 1, and for now the former alchemist seemed amicable enough; if they could get the Soulsever without a fight, so much the better.

Frisk took the first step forward, stopping up in front of the desk and tentatively picking up 1 of the poisoned glasses. Chara and Asriel arrived a few seconds later and repeated the gesture.  
“To the Father! And the great work we will do in his name!” Gaster toasted, raising his glass high then throwing his head back to down its contents. Apparently, he was well aware of his own sub-par wine-making skills as the glass completely missed his mouth and instead spilled out on his shoulder. Frisk and Chara followed suit, quickly emptying their glass on the muddy ground while Gaster was looking away. Asriel evaporated the “wine” in his glass with super-heated magic, the liquid turning into an acrid black smoke.

“Now that's out of they way” Gaster said, wiping his not so wine-stained mouth. “Let me get a good look at what The Father have gifted me with” He looked Frisk over, multiple times, up and down, left and right. Almost half a minute passed before he spoke up again “Ah, yes, sellswords do often possess the right disposition for His holy work... still, as a former knight of a noble house could it be you still cling onto some foolish notions of honor? Bah, forget I asked, a stupid question; if you've turned to the life of a mercenary you, more than most, must have realized the exact worth of a life, eh? Measured in coin or blood! Hehehe”

He turned to Chara, repeating the same process of looking her over. The rogue tried to meet his stare with a defiant one of her own, but more than once she flinched. There was a horrible... “depth” to Gaster's eyes. At the end of his examination, he nodded with an impressed smile...  
“Most peculiar. You are a rare breed, my lady, one who has seen the absolute depths and heights of society. Surely you must have seen trough this “facade” of a social construct that divides people, another way to signify why some people think they are worth more than others... pah, nonsense, of course. They are all equally worthless. You too have realized this, yes?” Gaster surmised.  
“No, she mmph!”Asriel tried before Chara quickly shot a hand out to clamp his muzzle shut.

Gaster turned to regard the commotion, the wicked smile on his face freezing as he saw the white-furred monster, who cowered under his gaze.  
“Now, this... this is something I could never have foreseen” Gaster uttered, almost a whisper “How in the world could the spawn of those deluded fools King Asgore and Queen Toriel ever be convinced of the real truth of life?... unless...” He glanced at Chara, then back at Asriel a few times.  
“Ha... hahaha! I knew there was some deeper connection between you two! Haha, oh, my lady, your gift of gab must truly be legendary if you could convince a Dreemurr to our side! Hihi!”  
Chara and Ariel shared a brief, confused look. Knowing their story, Frisk knew that while Gaster was not completely correct, he was still frighteningly good at reading a person. None of them had uttered a word to him and yet he had almost figured them all out.

Gaster narrowed his eyes on Chara in an accusing look.  
“Or perhaps you used more, shall we say, carnal means to seduce him?” he questioned. Another look was shared between the two, this time one of disgust and with a shudder.  
“Bahaha! Fret not, whatever your methods or will not judge! Bahaha!  
“Where... where do you know him from?” Chara suddenly ventured. An irrational fear suddenly struck Frisk, as if they believed that even by hearing their voices Gaster would figure their true intentions out.

“Simple!” Gaster quickly fired back. “I served under his fool-parents, no offense, as Royal Alchemist. I was even there at his birth. Didn't think much of it at the time” He turned to look at Asriel once again “Though, I am overjoyed to see that the apple fell far from the trunk in this instance”  
A small, disagreeing grunt was Asriel's answer.  
“But enough about the past! Now we must look to our work, to the future and how to bring about its swift and decisive end! Oh joy!”

His work. There was an angle Frisk could use.  
“I beg your pardon, Gaster” Frisk began, wavering a bit at his name, unsure of whether to call him by his old title of Royal Alchemist or merely by his name.  
“But... uh, we, uh, were not really told about this, uhh, most... grand of works we would be doing down here. Could you... perhaps... elaborate?”  
Gaster shot them an incredulous look. His eyes narrowed, his wicked grin turned to a line. Despite themselves, Frisk couldn't help but feel a deep terror well up within.

“Why, of course!” Gaster suddenly burst, clapping his together. “I'm sure you can't wait to get into the thick of it, so I will not torment you any longer. Here it is...”  
He reached into a desk in his drawer, withdrew a dagger and unceremoniously slapped it onto the desk.  
Frisk gave it a quick look over. A curved blade, signs of rust; poorly maintained to such an extent it looked like someone had deliberately tried to destroy it. Very mundane with one outstanding detail; a series of magical runes running along the blade, exuding such a power that even Frisk could feel it, their hairs standing on end.  
“What's that?” Chara asked.  
“The Soulsever!” Gaster burst.  
“Oh, well, that doesn't sound that ba-” She froze.  
“This hunk'a'junk has caused me no end of trouble, but with your help, I'm sure we can destroy it for good!” Gaster exclaimed with happiness.  
“No! You can't!” Asriel insisted, fearfully taking a step forward.  
Gaster shook his head, the grin not leaving his face, luckily “Tsk, tsk, tsk, I'm sure ol' gorey and tori taught you to never lose hope, eh? There's nothing you can't do as long as you have the guts and the will!”  
“The... Soulsever” Frisk butted in “I have heard it can cure one of The Darksign... the curse, is it true?”  
“... what do you mean by “cure”?” Gaster hissed quietly, lowering his head to stare Frisk in the eyes with his own dead orbs.  
“What the unenlightened call a curse is actually a blessing! Only a fool would judge it otherwise!” He growled, all traces of his former psychotic glee replaced with an almost beastly raving.  
“A blessing, I say! Bestowed upon us by The Father of the Abyss! Is liberation from our mortal needs and wants, not the ultimate freedom?” Gaster raised his hands up, his voice echoing throughout the laboratory like the sermon of an over-zealous cleric in a monastery.   
“The Father's children; The hollows, they are indeed blessed ones! Elevated to the highest point of existence! Above the petty concerns of sustenance, comfort, and love!”  
His arms fell. Solemnly he pulled back the sleeve on his right arm “I can only pray that trough my holy work, the father will one day see fit to grant me his blessing, as he has so many others”

Frisk was no stranger to injustices; many times they had seen noble souls die in ignominy and disgrace and seen craven curs elevated to exalted status, borne on the wings of falsehoods and lies. Still, the sight of Gaster's unblemished wrist somehow fanned the flame of quiet anger and outcry within them.

There was no Darksign on Gaster's wrist.

Gaster, the one who would propagate this heinous curse, the one who sought to rob the world of its only chance of being spared and someone who quite clearly possessed a warped and distorted view of the curses true nature... had somehow avoided getting cursed entirely. Even here, a city rife with the Abyss, hollows and cursed creatures, Gaster's luck of the devil had seen him spared from the thing he venerated so much and had torn so many lives apart.

Frisk heard the creak of tightening leather. Beside them, they saw Chara curl their leather bound hands into angry fists, no doubt as frustrated as they were

“But to answer your poorly worded question, yes, the Soulsever could remove the Father's blessing from your soul and body... not sure why anyone would do that, but there you go” Gaster suddenly said, falling back into his usual, gleeful self.  
“That is why it must be destroyed! Its mere existence is an insult to the father! Oh, the thought makes me want to poke an eye out! Hihi!”

Chara carefully reached a hand out to the soulsever blade, their hand shaking, no doubt fearful that Gaster would object, but no such thing was forthcoming.  
“And how... would one go about removing the cu- blessing? With the Soulsever?” They asked with a shaking voice.

Gaster's face fell and his lip curled into a shameful grimace. “I am... ashamed to say that it is a working of my own design. It...- I-ah-AH! Please forgive me!” He suddenly burst, falling to his knees in a praying gesture.  
“Uh, s-sure, you are, uh, forgiven” Frisk answered flustered.  
“Oh thank you!” Gaster jumped to his feet.  
“Ah, that's a weight off of my soul... but, I still need to confess my tragic actions” He picked up the Soulsever blade in one smooth motion, looking it over with disdain such as an Anor Londo knight might have for a dragon scale.  
“In my study into to uncover the workings of the blessing, this was when I still wasted my daily efforts in Ebott, I realized that there was a connection between the body and the soul of one who was blessed. You see, the blessing is born of the soul, yet manifest, most noticeably, in bodily, physical changes. I also found that the Darksign was a source, a font of power from which the curse draws its strength”  
He ran a bony finger along the blade, giving a hiss of disgust as he did.

“To “cure” one of the blessing, one would have to separate the soul and body at a climax, this being at death”  
He cast his gaze at the 3 adventurers, his eyes wet with oncoming tears.  
“With the help of the scholars of this land... I crafted this... devilish instrument... a necessary consequence in my plan to spread the father's gift, but nevertheless... an abomination”  
He held the blade up in the light, sneering as he did.

“Anyone slain by this blade will have their soul torn from the source of their blessing. They will die, cruelly freed from the Father's gift, to perish with no chance of revival... A True Death, for whatever reason anyone would want that” Gaster finished with a shrug, dropping the priceless artifact down on the desk carelessly.

Just as he did, the clanging was immediately superseded by a chorus of yowling and howling coming from one of the adjacent tunnels. The sound of hollows, yet everyone in the room, except Gaster, was too stunned to pay any heed.

“Oh drats! Sounds like The Father's Children have gotten themselves stuck in the ventilation again. They're playful little buggers, I'll tell you that for free, but, sheesh, they can be a hassle. Hohoho!” He started towards one of the tunnels, leaving the trio behind.  
“You wait here, I'll be right back. Try not to accidentally stumble and kill yourselves with The Soulsever, I'll be kind of miffed if I return and find one of you dead... Wahaha!” With that, the crazed alchemist set off into a sprint, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel, his mad cackle reverberating throughout the laboratory before fading into obscurity.

Back at the desk, Frisk could only stare at the false cure with a horrible, deepening sense of despair welling up inside them.  
So this was it, then. The thing they had fought, bled and literally died for; a thing that would separate them from this mortal coil for good.  
...  
They supposed, in the current state of the world, that was a luxury many would pay dearly for.  
But it was not what they had come for. This was not a cure for the curse, it was a cure for life.

“No... no, no, no! No! NO!” Asriel whimpered, falling to his knees and clutching his shaking head.  
“No!... please, Chara! This- this can't be it! Th- there has to be another way!”  
“Azzy...” Chara droned, staring at The Soulsever with wet eyes.  
“It can't... It can't end like this... Chara...”  
“Azzy...oh gods! AZZY!”

Frisk turned to the shouting couple, finding a sight that somehow deepened their already abyssal sense of defeat.  
Earthy, plant-like roots and vines snaked up out of the ground, trying to pull Asriel down. Leaves fell all around him, appearing in his fur and then falling.  
Chara dropped down beside him, pulling him into a strong hug.  
“Stay with me Asriel! Don't- Don't give up!”  
“Chara... it's over... it was all for naught...”  
“No! Don't say that, my brother! There- we'll find some other way to save Ebott!”  
“We can't... there is no other way... we should never have come here...”  
“Azzy don't... if you hollow then I will as well!”  
“...”  
“Please, just... hang on a little longer! I can't... I don't want to go on without you!”  
“...Don't let go of me”  
“D-don't worry, I won't!”

Frisk's breath eased, the vines around Asriel retreated back into the soil and the leaves stopped manifesting though some still stuck to his fur. He seemed... more shriveled than before, but at least it looked like he had found one last well of hope in his sister.   
They slowly went and retrieved The Soulsever from the desk, holding it up in front of themselves.   
“So... guess it's time to leave. We'd best hurry before Gaster comes back. We-"  
"Frisk, no..." Chara said, almost a whimper.  
"What? Why not?"  
"Frisk, look at us, look at my brother... look at me"  
The rogue pulled her hood back, showing a sight that stole Frisk's breath away.

Her skin was pale and taunt, like a hunger victim and her eyes no longer shone with a fiery scarlet glare. She looked so, so tired.  
"This curse... there's not much left of me... or my brother, Frisk"  
"Chara..."  
"Even if we got past the creatures and out of the crater, there's still a day's hard ride to Astora... I can't... we can't hold out that long"  
"Chara, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then... then..."

Chara didn't answer, but she did look up at Frisk. Her now nearly-lifeless eyes wet, but complimented by an accepting, almost peaceful smile.  
"Gods, Chara, don't... please don't ask this of me" Frisk whimpered.  
"I'm sorry... guess neither me nor my brother was as tough as advertised, huh?"

Frisk closed their eyes shut, hoping against hope they could just wake up somewhere else, realizing all of this had been a bad dream.  
Alas, it was not so. Asriel was probably mere minutes away from hollowing, if that happened Chara would follow soon after.

Better that they die a clean death than that.

Yes, better that they die here and now, rather than suffer the horror of hollowing fully.  
Yet, Frisk still cursed inwardly. At the fate that had brought them to a moment like this.

But only they could do it. If Chara and Asriel was to be spared, they would have to grant them that mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fire has almost faded now, both within our friends and the world itself. There only one thing left to be done.
> 
> And one last foe to overcome.


	9. The Dark Soul

 

**The Dark Soul**

Discovered at the dawn of time by The Furtive Pygmy, said to be the ancestor of both humans and monsters.

Unlike Lord Gwyn, The God of Sunlight, and his cohorts, The Furtive Pygmy did not hoard its soul for itself, instead fragmenting it and spreading it to its descendants.

In doing so, it ensured a degree of perseverance and determination amongst them, for when all the world is at stake, there is wisdom in not putting all your eggs in one basket. Only a few need survive to hatch an age anew.

An overhead pipe was leaking, dripping drops of moisture in a droning sound, an audible serving only to drag out the long, painful moment Frisk stood, full of doubt.

They held The Soulsever in between themselves and the quivering siblings; Chara, looking up at them with pleading eyes, full of grieving understanding and Asriel burying his muzzle in her shoulder for comfort and with small, evil-looking vines snaking up from the ground and around his legs threatening to drag his cursed soul to oblivion... And Charas' soon after.

Frisk tightened their grip on the blade, the added sensation of physically feeling something enough to snap them out of their stupor.  
They held the small sword up, the blade separating the 2 siblings from their point of view.

“So... who wants to go first?” They whispered to the siblings.  
Chara looked away with wet eyes, moving their hand to pat their sobbing brother on the head. Frisk understood completely.  
“It's not... fair” Asriel whimpered.  
“I know...” Chara replied “But it's what we have to do”  
“Why!? We can- we can just leave! I promise, Chara, that even if I don't have a soul I'll always take care of you!”  
“Heh, you're so sweet” Chara said and tightened her hug “But... that won't work”  
“Wh-why not!?”  
“Because you'd be king one day, Azzy. Would you really want to rule for an eternity without a soul?”  
“Well... no, b-but if you were there I'm sure I could manage!”  
“No... you wouldn't” Chara sighed “You wouldn't be able to truly “care” for me. All you'd have would be my memory. And I wouldn't even “be” there for you, I'd just be a drooling, moaning dreg”  
She ran her hand in a circular motion on Asriel's back, slowly tilting side-to-side in comfort.

“Perhaps I would be able to live with that” she continued “But I will never accept you losing what you are, my brother... I'd rather kill you myself”

A few moments of near-silence passed, the only noise being Chara humming a tune as she gently rocked herself and Asriel side-to-side and Asriel's quiet sobs.

Frisk spied the roots and vines at Asriel's feet starting to twitch and move again. They didn't have much time. Chara, having apparently noticed the moving shrubbery as well, stopped her motions and let out a deep sigh.  
“I'll miss you... please, wait for me on the other side”  
“I-I'll wait... As long as it takes!” he replied, quietly, but with a surprising force.

Chara reached an arm out to Frisk, not taking her eyes off of Asriel.  
“Give me The Soulsever, Frisk. I'll... I'll do it”  
Frisk hesitated for a moment, letting out a pent-up breath. Then, they took a step forward. Slowly, tentatively, they reached out with the blade to Chara.

Just before she could grasp it, a dark tendril suddenly smashed into The Soulsever, knocking it out of Frisk's hand and sending it clattering into the darkness.  
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” An angry voice bellowed. Gaster.  
Frisk and Chara turned to him. The once eery but somewhat-goofy professor had turned into a full-blown nightmare.

Gaster hovered a few inches off the ground. A dark miasma or cloud seemed to exude from his body and Frisk noticed a nearby wooden table rot completely within seconds as it was touched. His right hand was aflame with a dark, magical flame while his left was encased in frost and ice. His mouth had turned from the somewhat vertical grin from before into a horizontal slit filled with fangs formed into an angry snarl while his 2 empty eye sockets now leaked a blackish liquid. Most noticeably, however, was the array of tendrils coming from his back. Wet and oily, like the tentacles of some underwater sea leviathan.

“UNGRATEFUL BRATS! I WELCOME YOU INTO MY HOME, I OFFER YOU DRINK, HOSPITALITY AND A PLACE IN THE NEW WORLD AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!? BY SHUNNING THE FATHER'S GIFT!? BY LYING TO ME!?”

A pair of tendrils shot out, one aimed at Frisk and the other at the siblings. Frisk barely managed to deflect one with their shield but the siblings were not so fortunate. Asriel, with the vines still grasping onto him, was unable to move. Instead, Chara moved in front of him and spread her arms to shield him.   
And she did. The tendril pierced clean trough her shoulder, splattering Asriel behind her with some of her blood.  
Frisk quickly surged forward to chop at the tendril with their blunt sword but it retracted before they could. Chara collapsed forward, holding herself up with her one good.

“CHARA!” Asriel shouted and made to get up. The vines that had threatened to consume his soul held him fast but with a grunt of effort he managed to get himself free and ran to his sister.  
“Chara! Are you ok!?” He asked feverishly.  
“Well... not going to lie... it stings a bit” She coughed before tipping over on her side. Almost immediately a small pool of blood began forming under her, leaking from the gaping wound in her shoulder.   
“No! Chara, hold on! I'll heal you, just-” A shadow fell over him. Frisk, their shield and sword a the ready had moved in front of the 2 siblings.

“Your madness ends here, Gaster. What you call a gift is actually a curse of the most heinous type and we will leave with the cure, whether you like it or not” Frisk barked at him.  
The Former Alchemist shook his head in response “I tried telling you, I tried explaining but it figures that 3 backstabbing whippersnappers like you would never understand”  
He began hovering closer. His angry snarl suddenly turned something resembling his eery smile from before but... somehow more malicious.  
“Don't worry, I won't kill you, that would just mean you would reappear and come back to pester me. Nononono, you've already wasted too much of my time. Instead, I think I'll put you under lock and key and watch as that which you sought to remove slowly claims you. I will observe as The Father's gift hollows you out and leaves you nothing more than empty shells, free of all mortal concerns, fears and life!”

Gaster reared his inflamed hand back and threw what looked like a molten, greasy orb of fire at Frisk.

Great Chaos Fireball

Art of the Flame of Chaos, which engulfed  
the Witch of Izalith and her daughters.  
Hurls a giant chaos fireball.  
The Flames of Chaos can melt stone,  
producing a short-lived lava glob.  
A vile pyromancy that has fortunately  
and intentionally been forgotten and abandoned.

  
Frisk batted the orb away but the impact nevertheless had them sliding back and leaving a molten crater in their shield. The orb itself hadn't flown far, instead splattering onto the floor and leaving a small pool of magma.  
“Asriel! Get Chara out to cover! I'll try and cover you!” They called over their shoulder before turning to bat another Chaos Fireball away.  
They gritted their teeth at the pain of their shield beginning to glow red-hot from the repeated impacts of the fireballs, they would have to go on the offense now.

Gaster cackled maniacally as he saw Frisk stagger under his pyromanic assault. He closed in, using his many tentacles as a kind of stilts. From behind Frisk, he suddenly saw the prince dragging the human girl away. How naive, even so, close to hollowing he still tried to save a life. Very well, some people only learned by feeling futility on their own bodies.   
He reared his hand back for another Chaos Fireball, this time aimed at the 2 siblings, but a flash of steel caught his eyes.

Frisk surged forward, stepping on and jumping off a nearby table, raising their blunt sword for a strike.  
With a gasp, Gaster redirected one of his tentacles to send it spearing to towards the airborne knight. Frisk spun in mid-air to avoid but was just a fraction of a second too slow. The tentacle grazed their side, leaving a deep, bloody gash.  
But it didn't stop them.

Frisk bit trough the pain. With a warcry on their lips, they slashed down the blade. Gaster tried a hasty retreat but he too was too slow. Frisk's blade struck home on his inflamed hand and a noise of bones shattering sharply followed by a howl of pain echoed trough the underground laboratory.

Gaster dashed back, clutching his shattered hand. The magic in it had gone out, but as he shot Frisk a furious glare they knew he was far from defeated.  
“That... WAS MY FAVORITE HAND YOU LITTLE BRAT!” He screamed at Frisk.  
Frisk themselves clutched at the painful wound in their side. Blood dripped from it, forming a small pool on the ground.  
They had suffered far more grievous wounds in the past but... something inside them was missing. Used to be that Frisk would be able to shrug off the pain trough sheer force of will, but the curse had drained them and they felt so, so empty.

Gaster descended, no longer using his tentacles for movement but instead his own 2 feet. A blueish light flared from his icy hand and a sword emerged.

Crystal Magic weapon

A sorcery discovered by a human mage in the famed Ducal   
Archives in Anor Londo.

The crystal medium facilitates a strong bond between weapon and soul  
and the power of the sorcery fluctuates with the strength of both.

  
“Now look at this” Gaster hissed “I promised to spare you of death but your persistence has forced me to change my plans” He aimed the glittering crystal sword at Frisk's heart, piercing them with a cold, iron stare “You've made me a liar, little knight, and I hate liars!”

Suddenly Gaster surged forward with magically-assisted speed. He slashed down with a vertical strike, aiming to cleave Frisk in 2 but Frisk was an experienced fighter. Biting trough the pain, they deflected the blow harmlessly to the side, using the momentum to attempt a swipe at his legs.  
One of his tentacles lashed at Frisk's blade with blinding speed, wrapping around their wrist and arresting the blow but before it could completely disarm it Frisk stomped down with a steel-clad boot, they were rewarding with a “sqeulsch” sound and the tentacles going limp, releasing its hold.

Gaster growled in frustration. His crystal sword raised, he tried another strike, this time aiming at lopping Frisk's head clean off but once again they were a bit too fast.  
Frisk ducked low and jumped into a charge, effectively landing a headbutt straight into Gaster's chest.  
He staggered backward, gasping and wheezing for the breath that had been forced out of his lungs.  
Frisk seized the momentum and leaped into an overhead helm-splitter.

But this time Gaster was the one who was a bit too fast.

His crystal sword soared upwards, blocking Frisk's attack with surprising strength. Almost at the exact same time another tentacled, formed into a hard knot at the end, speared forward, smashing into Frisk's wound in their side.  
Frisk's vision flashed white with pain and instantly they collapsed onto their knees, gasping in pain.

“Close your eyes, little knight” Gaster whispered with glee and raised his sword high like a cruel executioner, ready to do his vocation “And know that when you open them again, it will be the last sight you will ever comprehend. The Gift and The Father will not be denied!”

Frisk looked up, finding a triumphant sight in the mad monster's eyes. Despite everything the curse had done to them, they still found it within themselves to meet his gaze with an angry one of their own. If this was to be The Determined Knight's last lucid moments, then let them be one of determination and defiance!

“DIIIIEEEE -URGH!”  
Suddenly, something emerged from Gaster's chest, spraying Frisk with some of his dust. It took a few seconds for Frisk to glimpse trough the pain, but once they did, the breath stifled in their throat at the sight.

The Soulsever.

“Just... leave us alone... go away” A sad voice came from behind the former alchemist. He staggered forward with the Soulsever still impaling him from behind, dropping his crystal sword. As he did, Frisk saw who had been behind the act.  
Asriel, somehow looking pale as a corpse despite his white fur, holding his arms out as if stabbing with a sword. His face was one of terror, sadness and anger all rolled into one.

Gaster turned, facing his would-be assassin and coughed up motes of dust.  
“'cough' 'cough' well now 'cough' this truly has been a day of many surprises. First 3 little adventurers show up at my door with the ever timid prince of monster's in tow, and now said Dreemurr has gone and tried to kill me 'cough' heh, wonder what your parents would say”

“Shut up... just, SHUT UP!” Asriel shouted back with a wavering voice.  
“Just go away... please”

“Hehe... with your help... I think I finally can”Gaster said ominously “To think I never thought of it before. So many attempts at destroying this wretched blade now stuck in my un-blessed body I have tried, yet it was made with the power of souls... so of course, it could only be destroyed with souls”

He took a deep breath. In a frightening instant, Frisk noticed fractures starting to appear along the blade.  
“Now, here at death's door, with my soul barred to the blade, do I see a way. It is a tool of light, of fire, yet all I know is dark...”

Dust began falling in rivulets from Gaster, and a loud, creaking sound began coming from the blade. Frisk leaped to their feet, fully aware of what the mad monster was doing and marshaling all their determination to stop him.

“OH NO YOU DON'T!” Frisk shouted. They struck out, shouting with all their might and putting whatever strength they had left into this final blow that would finally see an end to their mission in Arnvolt.  
And it struck it, bashing Gaster's head clear off his shoulders where it disappeared in a cloud of dust before it even hit the ground. His body followed soon after, sinking to the ground and vaporizing. The only noise the clank of The Soulsever landing close by. A Soulsever that now seemed on the brink of breaking.

A grayish, glowing heart with dark veins running along it suddenly rose from Gaster's dust. Frisk was instantly wary, shield and sword at the ready, but a calming paw landed on their shoulder.  
“It's alright” Asriel said in a voice Frisk could only describe as 'dead' “It just means he's gone for good”

Frisk exhaled, letting up some of the tension in their body. They took a step forward and reached out to the gruesome soul.

**Soul of Gaster, The Abyssal Alchemist**

The former Royal Alchemist of The Kingdom of Ebott.  
Some abyssal curse has gripped and strengthened this fallen soul.

When the signs of the curse first appeared in Ebott, Gaster was assigned to find  
a cure, yet his abominable methods soon led to his exile on the order of the royal family.

He wandered the land, looking for a new purpose. Unfortunately for all the world   
he found it in the Primordial Father of The Abyss, Manus, and his dark curse.

 

  
Almost as soon as Frisk's finger touched the heart, a crack appeared on it. Then one more. Then another, until it fractured into 2.

“Would that we all had such luck... the luck of the devil, to know the peace of death” Frisk whispered, knowing that Gaster was well and truly dead.

“Nice job” came a strained, pained voice from behind. Frisk didn't have to turn to figure out who it was. “Not as quick as I could have done it but still, not bad” Chara finished with a cough.  
A ghost of a smile graced Frisk at the comment. They would have to hold unto it, for they knew that what was coming would be nothing to smile at. The end.

Frisk leaned down to pick up The Soulsever. It looked close to falling apart. Exposure to Gaster's uncursed yet highly corrupted soul had severely damaged it. Still, they sense, a tingle of magical power from it. Perhaps it might still work.

Frisk turned to face the 2 siblings. Seeing the blade in their hands, Chara paused for a few seconds before giving a knowing nod.  
“None of us have much time left” Frisk stated.

Chara walked up to her brother, wrapping her good arm around him, both to comfort him but also to support herself. Already the vines around Asriel's feet were stirring, snaking up his legs to pull his soul to its doom.  
“Chara...” he whimpered “I can't... I can't feel anything”  
“Don't worry” Chara cooed “You saved me once. Now, I'll save you”  
Ever so slowly she reached her good hand out to Frisk. “I'll do it” she simply whispered.  
With a deep sigh, Frisk acquiesced, stepping forward and handing her The Soulsever.

“Please, wait for me on the other side” Chara whispered to Asriel as she moved the blade into position.  
“Always, I'll wait as long as it takes” he replied.  
Chara nodded.  
“Thank you. My hero. My prince”

For a moment all was silence. Even the incessant moaning of the hollows outside ceased, as if even those soul-starved dregs understood the act of tragedy and love playing out in the lab. All was silence.

Then, a sharp intake of breath.

 ***** shklch *****

  
Immediately, Asriel tensed up and whimpered, tightening his hug on his sister. The Soulsever pierced him trough the chest, where his heart would be and for a few dreadful moments, Frisk was witness to the sight of the blade exiting out his back.

Then, dust started to fall off him. It wasn't the first time Frisk had seen Asriel die and they knew monsters turned to dust when they did, but this time something else happened. Chara stood stock still, holding the weapon that had saved Asriel from a fate worse than death. Soon enough all that remained was a pile of glittering dust on the floor.

And a grayish heart floating above it. Something that hadn't been there the last time Asriel had perished.

Like Gaster's soul, this one was marked by darkish veins; signs of the curse, but gently, slowly, they receded. Despite it all, Frisk felt an immense sense of relief at the sight of the curse evaporating from the soul.

Chara was shaking and Frisk heard quiet sobbing. She reached a hand out to the heart, gently placing a touch. It flared brightly as she did and a brief feeling of comfortable warmth washed over Frisk, deep enough to touch their soul.

Then, it cracked, once, twice. And then snapped in two.

Asriel, The Prince of Monsters, was dead.

Chara fell to her knees, shaking, wheezing and coughing, a cry born by feelings to terrible to be given voice by a human throat.  
She tossed The Soulsever at Frisk's feet and they saw how the blade somehow looked even more damaged now.  
“Pl-please, ju-just end it” Chara managed in between her sobs.  
Frisk's own heart was heavy at the words and what had just happened, and they weren't surprised to find wet trails on their own face  
They inched closer and kneeled down beside Chara. Ignoring the pain in their side, Frisk sat beside her and threw their arm around her.  
“What are you doing?” Chara hissed. “Do-don't you see? The light of my life has gone out. If you... if you don't end me soon, it'll be too late”  
“I know” Frisk answered with a nod. “I just thought it was unjust that a fair maiden's last moments on this earth should be ones of tears”  
She was silent for a moment, then, a short chuckle.  
“Ah, I never could figure you out, Frisk” She said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her good arm. “I know I said it before but when first I saw you, I thought you were nothing but a cold-hearted mercenary, only in it for the money... but I was wrong”

She leaned down to rest her head in Frisk's chest. They quickly undid a gauntlet on their one hand and move it up to run their fingers trough her hair in comfort.  
“I wish I'd met someone like you earlier” Frisk whispered, voice starting to break with emotion again “Maybe then... maybe then I wouldn't have been such a screw-up, such an idiot”  
“You're no such thing” Frisk replied back “You're one of the bravest, brightest souls I've ever met... not bad looking either”  
“Pfft”

A short laugh escaped from both the knight and the rogue. Minutes went by, with nothing but Chara leaning into Frisk for comfort and Frisk giving it to her in these, her last moments of her life.  
“I wish we would have met earlier, too” Frisk whispered, gently moving the blade behind Chara.  
“Perhaps, in another life... we could have been something”  
They felt Chara move her head, nodding.  
“Perhaps... but not this one” She whispered back.

“No... I'm sorry Chara... and goodbye”

They plunged.

* * *

 

The sun was rising outside Gaster's laboratory, the strange, black lake was quiet and all the creatures that once inhabited the crater seemed to have disappeared.

Frisk let the sun's warm rays wash over them, for some reason feeling warmer than they had in a long time. They looked down at the hilt in their hand, once belonging to The Soulsever. The blade had snapped after its final act, all magic disappearing from it.

Frisk pondered it all a bit. There was no doubt that their only fate now was eventual hollowing, now that the only cure for the curse was gone and yet... they felt like they had time. Despite the soul-crushing tragedy they had just witnessed they still felt lucid, clear-headed. Perhaps because they still had one last task to do.

They looked down at their other hand, holding a pair of heart-shaped lockets, insides of each containing a picture of the 2 heroic yet tragic siblings.

They let out a pent up breath. Ebott was far away, yet there someone was expecting them. They still had one last mission, one pair of worried parents to meet before they could give up.

Because once they had delivered the lockets, they had no doubt that they would gladly give up their humanity if it could just take the pain away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, the tale of the 2 royal children of Ebott ends... but Frisk's story is not yet done.
> 
> There will be an epilogue coming soon. Stay tuned, and thank you for your time.


	10. The End

 

**The End**

 

Every end is a new beginning, every death is a window.

The appearance of the curse is naught but the turning of a page in the history of the world.

Some might find fault and despair at this unavoidable cycle of death and life, destruction and rebirth.

Yet, for those willing to look past this dark veil of despondency another truth of the world can be discerned. A truth that serves to encapsulate, at the same time, the frailty and strength of life itself.

No matter what, life will endure, life will do on and souls will flourish for all time.

 

 

If one sentence could describe The Kingdom of Ebott, it would be “tarnished splendor”. Frisk huffed a small chuckle at the realization that they had actually found the place. Ever since leaving Arnvolt they had traveled by foot, then by horse, then foot again when a pack of hollows had set upon them in the dead of night. They had escaped but their trusty steed had not been so fortunate. After that they had simply strode on, into the mountains where the fabled kingdom of monsters was said to be, until, acting on some strange impulse, they had looked up, finding a large, opened gate with doors emblazoned with the same winged orb symbol that had been on Asriel's and Chara's robes, topped by a large sign that read “WELCOME TO EBOTT, HOME OF MONSTERS”, almost looking like an entrance to some childish wonderland.

 

How long had they wandered? Time had lost all meaning for Frisk. With The Soulsever destroyed the only know way of curing the curse had disappeared as well. What use of time did one doomed to eventual hollowing have? The cruelty of it only doubled by the fact that no one ever knew exactly when hollowing would occur, only that having a purpose, something to live and strive for could delay it.

Soon enough, Frisk wouldn't even have that anymore.

 

As grandiose as Asriel's tales of his homeland had been, the state of Ebott left much to be desired. Whenever the curse appeared in a human settlement, life, even that untouched by the curse, would begin to die down. People would remain at the bedsides of their cursed family members instead of going to work, people would be afraid to venture out at night to revel for fear of being ambushed by a recently-turned hollow. Eventually, once fear and panic had reached a climax, those still in possession of their souls would riot, taking their fear and frustrations out on whoever and whatever they deemed the cause of their suffering in a flood of violence and blood that usually left said settlement in ruin.

 

Ebott hadn't reached that state yet, but the darkening decay of the curse was plain to see. Whole rows of once brightly colored and vibrant family domiciles now stood drab empty, doors barred, windows boarded up and colors fading in the sun without caretaker to maintain it.

 

As Frisk walked towards a domed, almost homely-looking castle in the distance, the slow degradation of life in Ebott also became evident. The streets of Ebott were wide and long, almost as if designed for a parade and the heavily turned and shuffled earth of the ground attested to that once, these streets had been vibrant, full of monsters.

 

Now, only a few could be seen. A red-haired fox-looking creature with a robe tucked tightly around them and face cast down brushed past Frisk without so much as a look. A large bear stood leaning against a wall, rubbing something on their wrist with a look of complete emptiness on their muzzled face and what looked like a white-furred dog clad in heavy plate mail stood guard at a street corner, sounding a strange whining noise that Frisk took to it crying quietly to itself.

 

Ebott was dying, that much was clear. The curse was uncaring in whom it took and how many lives it ruined.

 

As Frisk neared the castle, activity seemed to pick up a bit. A small building on the side with the sign “GRILLBY'S TAVERN” still seemed open. The smell of roasted meat and roars of jolly laughter echoed from the place, monsters living in denial no doubt, trying to forget and ignore the grim destiny settling upon the kingdom just outside.

 

Even here, at the heart of the kingdom, the decay was evident. Most shops stood empty, painting cracked and flaking off. A complete contrast, Frisk noticed, to the castle itself. The keep, though quite small by human standards, only having 3 spires in a triangular pattern probably able to fit in an area about the same size as sparring rings put together, almost seemed to radiate, as if functioning as a last beacon of light and hope to the beleaguered monsters. An ultimately vain effort yet for some it might just buy them a few more days, a little more time with their souls. For some, it might just make all the difference.

 

Frisk stepped up to the opened gates of the keep, finding, for the first time, a strong sign of defiance against the curse outside of the castle. A lone guard stood here, arms crossed, clad in a full-bodied suit of armor, tall, but not outright lanky, with a plume of scarlet red hair streaking from behind the helmet. The guard lowered its gaze as Frisk approached, looking them over with what they could only assume was scrutiny.

 

“What's your business here, human?” The guard asked bluntly.

Once, Frisk might have been taken aback at hearing a female voice coming from such an imposing figure, not many female knights around, but they had been torn for too long now, ever since leaving Arnvolt all Frisk had been able to feel was a forlorn urge to deliver... no, return what remained of THEM.

Frisk opened their mouth to answer but found that they couldn't, not could they tell exactly why. How long had it been since they had last eaten? Drunk or slept? They couldn't remember.

“Well? Spill the beans, already!” The guard insisted.

 

Closing their mouth with a sigh, Frisk reached into the pouch hanging at their side to retrieve their answer. They opened their palm to the guard, showing the 2 heart lockets they had taken from Chara's and Asriel's remains, one stained with dried blood, the other glittering with traces of dust.

The guard made no motion, didn't move an inch yet Frisk could tell the sight devastated her. It was if she... deflated, the iron will she radiated before completely vanished.

 

She stepped aside and motioned for Frisk to enter.

“King Asgore is inside the throne room” she flatly stated, with just there merest hint a shakiness in her voice.

Frisk entered quietly and as they left the entrance hall behind them a single sound echoed trough the corridors. The sound of a once stoic defender punching a wall in agony and despair.

* * *

 

 

The inside of the castle, what little Frisk saw of it at least, reminded them more of a Home than a seat of power. The stone walls were covered with brightly colored tapestry and where one would expect grandiose paintings of former and present rulers, one instead found humble pictures of a once happy family and glorious landscapes.

There was something heavy in the air, a pallid malaise as if not long ago the castle had been a warm, welcoming place and was now instead cold and left behind

 

The corridor from the entrance hall lead in a straight line and soon enough Frisk passed into the throne room, albeit the smallest one they had ever been in. Circular, with a stone dais in the middle upon which 2 humble thrones were located. The outer edges were lined with beautiful plant life and vegetation, obviously carefully and painstakingly maintained by what Frisk guesses was a large, broad-shouldered individual, back turned, watering a few of the plants.

 

Frisk stepped closer. The giant was humming a gentle tune, one they had the feeling they had heard before. They opened their mouth to voice their arrival – what was it the guard had called him? Asgore?

 

“Akhgor...” They tried but all that came was a croak.

“Hm? Is someone there?” The king nonetheless rumbled back and looked over his shoulder at them.

“Ah, forgive me, I didn't hear you enter. Just a minute and I will be right with you”

Frisk pondered the giant for a moment. He had a deep, rumbling voice that nonetheless spoke with warmth, someone that would protect those they loved with all they had.

 

Frisk hand clenched around the 2 lockets in the pouch. How were they going to tell him? Would it be better to simply turn around and leave? Blissful ignorance or devastating truth?

 

“There we go” Asgore said, putting down a watering can and nonchalantly wiping his dirt-stained paws on his cloak.

“Now, what can I help you with? We don't often get human visitors in Ebott” He stated with a warm smile.

A well-practiced but ultimately fake warm smile, Frisk realized. The king did a good job of keeping up his facade but not knowing where his children were had clearly been gnawing at him for quite some time; the fur beneath his eyes seemed a dark, the eyes themselves were slightly bloodshot and his clothes seemed oddly lose for someone who no doubt had them tailor made. All traits of someone who hadn't been sleeping or eating well for quite a while.

Not something that was about to change, Frisk realized.

 

“There's no reason to be nervous” Asgore suddenly said, pulling Frisk out of their thoughts “Please, take your time, I have lots to spare and talking to people helps take my mind of... eh, anyway” he said, scratching the back of his head with a nervous look.

“Ca-can I get you something? I'm not usually one to brag but I do make a decent cup of tea if you're inter rested”

 

Frisk tightened their grip on the necklaces and took a deep breath, this was probably going to hurt more than those agonizing few seconds after they had jumped off the church in Arnvolt... but it had to be done, Asriel and Frisk deserved closure and so did their parents.

 

Ever so slowly Frisk extended a closed hand towards the king who responded by tilting his head slightly to the side in interest “Golly, you're a curious one. What are you up to? Is this some kind of game?” he asked in good spirit.

 

Frisk exhaled... then slowly opened their hand, revealing the contents; the 2 lockets, once belonging to Asriel and Chara, to the king.

 

Frisk had almost wanted him to fly into a fury, to lash out at them in grief, to blame them for their deaths. It would have been so easy had he simply struck them down. A quick death and they would have been out there, reappearing at the nearest bonfire and ready to just put the whole horrid situation behind them.

 

But he didn't do that.

 

Instead, Frisk witnessed the slow, methodical unraveling of a once strong and proud individual. The sight of a father realizing he was no longer that.

His tired eyes seemed to go vacant, his shoulders sank, almost as if he collapsed in on himself. He slowly raised an arm towards Frisk.

“What... is that... where did you...” he said but there was no trace of curiosity or questioning, simply a last ditch effort of denial.

 

Frisk tried to say something but once again the words dried out in their mouth, becoming nothing more than a croak. Even if they could speak what could they even begin to do to comfort the grieving king?

 

He took a step forward, staggering and knees wobbly, as if he was about to pass out. Then another, and another.

Then, he fell. Down on his knees as his eyes started to water.

 

“Gorey? What is going on? Why are you-” A female, mother voice suddenly spoke. Frisk looked to their side, finding another goat-like monster standing in a doorway, arms full of yellow-crowned flowers.

Then she looked at Frisk hand and what laid in it. The flowers dropped to the floor, petals trailing and shifting in their air as the queen likewise realized what had happened to her children. Her paws moved to her mouth and her eyes widened in complete horror. The sight of someone pushed to the edge and then over in a matter of moments.

 

Frisk tried again, finally, desperately managing an almost non-existing “I'm sorry”

The sight of the necklaces almost seemed to burn Frisk. Without thought, Frisk turned their hand, dropping them down amongst the grass at their feet.

“NO!” Asgore wailed and scrambled forward almost maddeningly, tripping and tumbling, but as his paws closed on the necklaces, he went still, clutching them to his chest and curling up on the floor, sobbing and crying silently.

 

As he did, the sleeve on his right arm peeled back for just a moment, long enough for Frisk to get a view of something that threatened to shatter their already ailing mind.

 

There, on King Asgore's wrist; a dark circle that seemed to shimmer, as if freshly stamped there with a hot-iron.

 

Perhaps it was a mercy... soon enough the king would no longer be able to grieve for his lost children or anyone in fact. Perhaps in time, he would even forget about them.

 

'But that was out of their hands' Frisk thought as they turned to leave the throne room. Asriel's and Chara's story had closed its last chapter. Soon enough the same would happen for Frisk.

* * *

 

 

Outside, the sun was setting on Ebott in more ways than one. Long shadows were drawn over most of the buildings and the sky burned a dull orange.

 

Frisk took a deep breath of the surprisingly warm mountain air, weighing their decision to reveal Asriel and Chara's fate to their parents. No doubt they had sealed Ebott's fate, but perhaps the killing blow was better than the slow death. Without the pillars of strong leaders, no nation could stand and Ebott would be no different.

 

They spied a pair or armored dogs carrying a heavy, shaking crate between them. Plant vines snaked out of cracks in it and voices could be heard begging and threatening the guards to let them out.

 

“whelp, that went about as good as could be expected” a voice sounded from beside them. Frisk turned to it; sans the flower, with his usual grin, sticking up out of the ground.

“so what now? off to break more hearts? more adventures? whatever you do, i hope you won't mind lil' ol' me taggin' along, watchin' you all this time has been a blast!”

 

Frisk turned their gaze towards a mountain range in the far distance. What should they do know? They were still cursed, doomed to turn into a hollow soon enough. Continuing their old mercenary ways until that happened was an option... but they felt drained and tired... so terribly tired in both body and soul.

 

“gotta say, ya don't look so good, slugger” sans observed. They brought a hand to their face, finding it gaunt and think but whether it was from hollowing or simply from not having eaten anything in a long time they could not tell.

 

“oh, right, i guess you're hungry, huh? that's fine, i know this place close by, should still be open, the best mead-house in all of ebott!” sans explained, bouncing a bit on his stem.

“then again... i never really saw any of you go hollow and they do say it's quite a sight...”

a devilish grin began to form on the flower.

“guess that's what we'll do then. i'll stick with you until the light leaves your eyes then i'll probably ditch ya. the whole world is open for me and i got all the time i could ever-”

“Watch it! We got a loose one!” a voice suddenly called out.

 

Before Frisk could turn to look, one of the armored guards suddenly sidelined sans, diving at him and pulling him out of the ground in one smooth movement.

“he-hey! what gives!?” sans spluttered.

“Sorry citizen, but orders are that all hollows go to the dungeon. It's for your own safety” the monster guard explained, easily restraining the wildly struggling flower in his arms.

“WHAT? NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT! I'M SANS THE EXPLORER!” sans wailed, earning him nothing more than a simple “uh huh” from the guard. “FRISK! PLEASE! TELL THIS IMBECILE I'M WITH YOU! I DON'T WANNA SPEND AN ETERNITY INTHE CLINK!” the flower continued as the guard marched off with him.

 

Frisk watched the spectacle with an empty expression, observing as the guard turned a corner and disappeared, and hearing sans's screams grow dimmer and dimmer.

It was a cruel fate to be locked up as a hollow, but in truth, it was the only way. Hollows were immortal, killing them would only make them reappear somewhere else.

 

Frisk remembered hearing stories of a similar practice in many human kingdoms. It was said that far to the north, up in the maintains, a great asylum had been built around a bonfire. Those cursed or hollowed were shepherded there, away from the living, where, even if they died, they would reappear at a bonfire inside the asylum walls. Forever trapped, forever hungry and forever contained.

 

But perhaps that was the best way, Frisk surmised. At least human hollows lacked enough cognitive functions to despair at their fate... perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

 

Frisk knew they were a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode into a ravening, soulless, flesh-eating hollow. The asylum would be a long trek but perhaps... just perhaps it would make for a fine final adventure.

Asriel had spoken at length about the worth of every life, a notion Chara had started to pick up as well. If just to honor them this last time, Frisk would nib this problem in bud. Lock themselves away before they hurt anyone in their hollowed state.

 

With a final intake of breath, Frisk set off. Exiting the gate of Ebott towards the far north. A sudden calm went over them, the fulfilling sense of having a purpose or a goal, along with a feeling that was far more common to them, the accompanying feeling of strength to see it all trough to the end.

 

Knowing that their friends could rest easy and that they did all they could in this life filled Frisk with Determination... for the last time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that then, the end of Frisk's journey.
> 
> The way this story unfolded actually didn't go according to plan at all. When I first started I aimed for a more minimalistic way of storytelling like they do it in Dark Souls, I even made a few attempts such as Frisk noticing that Arnvolt's walls seemed to have been breached from the inside in chapter 1, and the state of the barracks inside the walls in chapter 2.
> 
> Yet, most of the time I tried it, the story just felt lacking and non-descript instead of minimalistic to me. It's a surprisingly a lot harder to write like that than it looks. 
> 
> Nevertheless, I am proud of how it went. Souls stories always end bittersweet; dark, yet with the knowledge that things just might work out somewhere down the road.
> 
> So thanks for all the comments, kudos and the like! It's been a blast!
> 
> And who knows? The cycles are always turning. Maybe sometime, somewhere, we'll see what the next cycles' version of Frisk, Chara and Asriel are up to...?

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know locations in Dark Souls didn't have a description like the items does, but it made for easier visualisation of the world.
> 
> In any case, if you made it trough this unholy mashup, do feel free to leave a comment :)


End file.
